A star to sail by
by TFALokiwriter
Summary: The Star Trek Discovery au no one asked for in which everything is fixed and fits in the vision of Star Trek. Officers have stars to sail by in their careers. Captains have this, too. Starfleet officers thrust into captaincy so quickly don't have that and it takes the early part of their command to find that star. When they have a choice, they take it. And find their star.
1. Dif-tor heh smusma

"Penny for your thoughts, Burnham?" Saru asked.

Burnham looked up from her station out of her train of thoughts.

"Saru," Michael said. "It is none of your concern."

"If it is bothering you, it is," Saru argued. Michael looked over toward the Kelpian.

Burnham folded her arms.

"Saru, I request we speak in private," Burnham said.

The two officers walked off the bridge. Their places on the bridge were replaced by two other officers. They came down the corridor. The corridors were filled with officers in colorful shirt with turtle necks that had sleeves that were either long or short. A new uniform that came in replacing the much loose variation of the same uniform. Burnham was in a yellow turtleneck that had the gray starfleet insignia with dark pants designed to her figure. A contrast to Saru's blue shirt. They had braided ranks on both sleeves. The halls of the Shenzhou were bright and colorful with a red ceiling. The halls had a unique yet futuristic design to them. They came to a stop at a corridor where there were not as many passing officers. Burnham turned toward the Kelpian.

"Captain Georgiou wishes to retire from Starfleet and I to take her place," Burnham said. That drew Saru's alarms.

"You are not ready for captaincy," Saru said.

"I am quite aware," Burnham said. "You are the most senior officer I have come to know."

"Just because I have been here longest doesn't mean I am the senior officer," Saru said.

"You are second officer," Burnham said. "that makes you a senior officer."

"Burnham, what are you planning?" Saru asked.

"Accepting a reduction in rank to serve on another ship leaving someone more qualified to captain the Shenzhou," Burnham said. "Like you."

"Being promoted to captain over two ranks takes a extraordinary measures," Saru said.

Oddly enough, his threat ganglia had yet to come out. There was no danger coming from the woman. Something was going to happen and they had no idea what it was going to be. The knowing look in the officer's eyes of fear was enough to say that she was afraid as he was. Captains were expected not to be afraid in command. In the seven years that he had known Burnham, she had grown from Vulcan demeanor to a Vulcan and Human like individual. Both of them balanced by logic and restraint in her emotions. Admiral Anderson's insistence of promoting her so quickly made sense, now, from over a year ago. Yet the only flaw in his plan was that she wasn't ready. Seven years could not pack ten years worth of starfleet training. The normally reserved woman relaxed.

"We have to expect the unexpected," Burnham said. "Shenzhou has a reputation of finding the extraordinary."

"You plan to take that opportunity," Saru said.

"Yes," Burnham said

"So you are expecting something very remarkable enough that the captain is unable to perform, you take over, and being advised by I?" Saru asked.

"Yes," Burnham said. "I hope it happens that way."

"As do I," Saru said.

"I do not wish to command without a star to sail by," Burnham said. She shook her head then her Vulcan composure came back over turning her attention onto the taller officer. "You will make a great superior officer, one day, _Commander_ Saru."

"Now that is the Commander Burnham I know full well," Saru said.

The smallest of smiles grew on Burnham's face, briefly, then it faded.

"You're a good colleague," Burnham said, then she walked away leaving Saru behind.

* * *

Georgiou took out one of her favorite books from behind her desk.

She slid it out then sat down into the chair.

Books were often times good distractions from what was about to happen. In the next few days she was too transfer command over to Burnham then accept the rank of admiral. Which meant, in Starfleet terms, retirement. It was a acceptable tradition among starfleet officers. Officers before her had done this in the beginning. Starting from the first Enterprise in space coming back after serving in space. Admiral Archer took the first retirement and along went Thy'lek Shran. The rest of the bridge crew followed suit. She flipped a page coming to the beginning. She didn't know why Admiral Anderson had a special interest in Burnham's career going fast but she suspected that it was due to her Vulcan-like demeanor. Having not one but two Vulcans in Starfleet was deemed as having better than one. A part of her didn't like rushing a Starfleet officer so quickly through the ranks.

"Message from Starfleet command," Lieutenant Troy Januzzi came over the comn.

"Direct it to my ready room," Georgiou said. Admiral Anderson appeared on a square screen above her desk. Georgiou smiled in return, pleasently. "Admiral Anderson."

"Captain," Anderson said. "Has Commander Burnham been informed of her next command?"

"She has," Georgiou said. "I expect her to be a welcomed captain for the crew."

"That is good to hear," Anderson said.

"For now on. . ." Georgiou said. "Upon my return to Earth, let me be the judge of the Shenzhou."

"You honestly think that we are setting her up for a bad command?" Anderson asked.

"If she is, I don't want that happening any time soon to my ship," Georgiou said.

"Sure it's not because you and her are in a relationship?" Anderson asked, again.

"We broke it off," Georgiou said. "Mutually." Her hands clasped together onto the table.

"Oooh," Anderson said. "You just want to make sure her first year is not going to be rocky with missions."

"Short term missions," Georgiou said. "The first year of command is very vital to every captain."

"Look at me," Anderson said. "I was rushed."

"You were not rushed," Georgiou said. "You spent fifteen years climbing the ranks. She has spent seven years."

"I remember when I was your captain," Anderson said. "More experienced by then." there was a tone of regret in his voice. Easily said on his face. "I was hard on you during the war."

"Rightfully so," Georgiou said. "those battles were difficult."

"I am trying not to repeat history with this perfect opportunity," Anderson said.

"It seems like you are," Georgiou said. "Burnham is not ready for wars. Much like you were."

"I didn't screw up," Anderson said, defensively. Then sheer realization hit him.

"Andy," Georgiou said. "She is not fully in tune to who she is. Her emotions guiding her in a time of war. . ."

"I get it, I get it, I get, Pippa!" Anderson said, shaking his hands. "You think she will get emotional about her crew and end up killing them all."

"Yes," Georgiou said.

Anderson sighed, rubbing his forehead.

"Sometimes I hate you being so damn right," Anderson said. A familiar small smile appeared on Georgiou's face.

"Making her face skirmish after skirmish with no break is no way for a newly made-rushed, I should add- captain to operate," Anderson had a short nod. "Starfleet requires all its non-constitution vessels captains to be ready when someone wants it."

"I don't want a war," Anderson said. "Bad for me, bad for the commodores, fleet captains, and those dilithium mines," he waved his hand reclining into the chair now facing his side. "Bad for everyone." He faced the aged woman. "Those Klingons are getting bolder by the day." he was now facing the woman completely with his forearms on the table. The bags under his eyes easily said that he hadn't been sleeping for the past few days. Streaks of gray were earlier than expected. "We are going to enter a war one of these days and the Shenzhou will be part of it. Whether you want it or not."

Georgiou closed her eyes then reopened them with a sigh.

"Understood, admiral," Georgiou said.

"Good," Anderson said. "Enterprise is out of reach. She won't be part of it."

"She is always in deep space," Georgiou said. "That is what she was built for."

"She does it well," Anderson said, nostalgically and warmly. He sighed. "You will tell her before you hand over the ship."

"I will do even better," Georgiou said. "I will inform the crew."

"I hate war," Anderson said. "Going to turn the new explorers into soldiers. The bright eyed. The optimistic. The hopeful. . "

"So do I," Georgiou said, sadly. "Georgiou out."

Anderson was replaced by the Starfleet command symbol.

* * *

"Nambue, what brings you here?" Burnham said, as she sensed his presence enter the deck.

"Life," Nambue said. "things ending, things beginning, just the usual."

"The usual. . ." Burnham said.

"And you?" Nambue asked.

"Hope," Burnham said.

"I am transferring off to a hospital hospital after I get back to Earth," Nambue said. "The captain approved."

"Funny," Burnham said. "So am I."

"Oh, you got tired of this old junk?" Nambue said.

"Not tired," Burnham said. "I prefer continuing to serve under this rank."

"Ohh," Nambue said, in understanding. "Cold feet. The captain's promoting you in full to commander, isn't she?"

"Sort of," Burnham said.

"Hm," Nambue said. "Looks like this old girl is going to have more than a few new starfleet officers serving in her."

"Indeed," Burnham agreed.

Burnham stayed, watched the passing scenery with awe and wonder.

"It is going to be a big change for you," Nambue said. "Some officers are getting assigned to Constitution classes."

She looked off toward the doctor dressed in his medical blues.

"I have dealt with larger changes than that," Burnham said. "as most humans say, this will be a muffin compared to the cake."

Nambue laughed.

"That is not a phrase, Commander," Nambue said, shaking his head. "But I understand what you are trying to say."

She was going to miss the days serving on the Shenzhou. Her secondary family, and her captain, her best friend, . . . her T'hy'la. Burnham loved the woman with all her mind, her heart, and her very being. Georgiou had opened the woman up to a whole new world. One of service, loyalty, and love. She turned away from Nambue then made her way toward her quarters. It was nearing the hours of night duty. She made her way into her quarters. Burnham came over to the photograph of her family on Vulcan. A rather large one in fact, full of adoptive siblings after being taken in by the S'chn T'gai clan. She had a fond, small smile at the photograph then slid off her standard uniform. After getting dressed into her luxurious purple Vulcan robe, she sat down onto her standard meditation mat to clear her thoughts. She entered a light meditative trance cataloguing her emotions of the day. Logic dictated that her future was going to be prosperous.

* * *

Saru walked around the halls eating his bowl of blueberries.

Becoming first officer, finally, after years of serving under Georgiou was relieving.

Soon, it would happen. One way or another.

The universe hated Saru so he expected it to be thrown out of the airlock of what he expected.

Either way, he was relieved. What was relieving was that the two women were not going to be pinning at each other, yearning, or sharing heart eyes during a diplomatic events. He didn't understand they had broke up last year. He suspected it was because of the incident where the USS Enterprise had to help them. It was likely Georgiou's idea to end their relationship as it was a bad idea for a captain to be involved with someone who must take over should the worst case scenario happen. One in which she was lost on a way mission. He could picture it, Burnham ordering to keep the Shenzhou in orbit in a emotionally compromised state of mind. Heartbroken, dismayed, and upset. It hurt to be able to visualize it.

Saru took another blueberry out of the bowl. He was light as a feather. Things were finally going his way. If he could fly in the air and twirl without any consequences, Saru would have taken that opportunity. He was gleeful. Being first officer of the USS Shenzhou. He was elated, thrilled, and a number of things. He took another blueberry out of the bowl making his way down the corridor. If could bounce on his hooves the way humans seemingly bounced then he would be bouncing on every step. There was a doctor in starfleet who bounced, visibly, pleased or angry. It was at a starbase a few years ago had he came across the southern man. He took a turn in the corridor then went through a doorway entering a science lab. Several officers were observing a new lifeform beneath the microscope. A highly specialized one.

"Mister Saru," he was greeted by Cadet Decker. Bright eyed and bushy tailed.

"At ease," Saru said, placing the bowl onto the table. "Has the lifeform been identified?"

"It is nothing that we have ever seen," Decker said. "I can't believe we came across a creature shaped like a kite."

"A kite does not a definitive shape, cadet," Saru reminded.

"I mean the original kites," Decker said. "Have you ever flown a diamond shaped material with a string in the sky?"

"Oh, that," Saru said. "the academy calls them wind flyers."

"Those were kites," Decker said, Saru looked down with his eyes looking through the microscopic lens. "all respect, sir, I think you had a instructor who was messing with you."

"If that were true," Saru said. "That would have been. . . ." Saru stopped speaking as he stared at the lifeform.

"Yeah," Decker said. "It is what it looks like."

"Are you growing a finger on this lifeform?" Saru asked.

"No," Decker said.

"It is growing a finger," Saru said.

"A. . . a finger," Decker said, in disbelief.

"A finger," Saru said. Decker blinked, rapidly, baffled. "Where did we get this?"

"It was on the hull," Decker said.

"What deck?" Saru asked.

"Deck five," Decker said.

"Sick bay. . ." Saru looked puzzled. "How could that happen." He looked over toward Decker. "Send it to Sick Bay and inform Anton that his patients finger is in progress. . . However it survived being on the hull is a mystery better left not investigated." He took another blueberry out then munched on it taking the bowl with him leaving the room.

"Yes sir," Decker said, to empty air. He looked over toward the small plate. "For a growing lifeform, you don't look like a finger."

* * *

The Vulcan way meant being able to control ones emotions and not let it control them.

Burnham had seen children in her childhood be blinded by their rage toward a outsider among them.

Taunting her that she was not good enough and she will not pass her peers.

Instead of displaying her anger and fighting the bullies, unlike her adoptive brother, she used her intelligence to make herself useful. The rage was in the children's hands, their voices, and their logic. More pressing in the hands of adults trying to eliminate her in attacks at Vulcan Learning Centers. She survived that, as had Sarek, with the first known soul-graft to be known to be applied to her. Sarek knew her parents, and someway, he felt responsible for the loss. He didn't say he felt responsible, but it was what he did that convinced her. She had seen him before the attack during formal visits. Before he had Amanda with him. The Vulcan way brought a civilization from the brink of self-destruction to a whole new diplomatic, stoic, cautious era full of unknown and xenophobia from the species themselves.

The Vulcan way had brought Burnham so far in her life. Getting up, cataloguing her emotions after awaking, and analyzing her feelings. Dreams had unique significance on how she felt representing her emotions. She took a sonic shower, put on her new uniform of the day, and velcrowed the side of her pants. She applied her normal make up routine until she looked prepared for the day. Her hair re-prepared for the day. She nodded back to herself linking her hands behind her back. She walked out of the room then headed down the corridor. Her morning shift would begin in thirty-three minutes. In those thirty three minutes, she will take her time eating in the senior officers mess hall. Saru was putting salt into his tea alongside the dish prepared for the morning. The Vulcan way would keep her going. Whatever happened in the next few day, she would follow the Vulcan way to keep herself together. Burnham feared that what Georgiou had opened for her would consume her and be overwhelming, compromising, even. It was a relief when Georgiou had been the one who ended the relationship. Gratitude and relief were all she felt after it was all said and done.

Nambue was speaking with the captain holding a padd. He did not seem to be happy. Georgiou had the smallest of smiles on her face, bemused. She had a short lived laugh at the man's comment then took at it for herself. Her eyes directed over toward Saru then toward the security officer, communications, engineering, and to Burnham. The smile that Georgiou had in Burnham's direction made her feel like she was standing in the starlight surrounded by the nightsky on Vulcan. It was a wondrous feeling. Burnham had the smallest of a smiles back at the captain's direction. She ate her breakfast then put away the plate and cleaned her hands. She was not the type to speak during eating. A tradition picked up from Vulcan. Not always did Amanda have discussions at the table but when it was held then it was for a good reason. Very important. She made her way toward the bridge in the corridors that she called home. A place she knew for seven years. Seven years that had brought her out of the Vulcan shell.

"Commander Burnham!" Januzzi called.

Burnham stopped, turning in the direction of Januzzi.

"Lieutenant," Burnham said.

"You got a message last night from Ambassador Sarek," Januzzi said. "Your comn terminal is glitching with mine again."

"My apologies," Burnham said. "I should change the address."

"Uh huh," Januzzi said. "I am not your personal spam box."

"Amusing," Burnham said. "I will rectify this immediately."

"Thank you," Januzzi said.

"You are welcome," Burnham said, then she made her path away from the man returning to her quarters. "Computer, activate comn terminal." She clasped her hands in front of her. "Turn on latest message from S'chn T'gai Sarek."

"Message opened," the computer said.

Amanda, older, yet a little bit wiser with graying hair appeared.

"Michael," Amanda said.

"Mother," Burnham said.

"You look beautiful today," Amanda said. "I want you to know that we picked up a little boy."

"Another?" Burnham asked, raising a eyebrow. Amanda's face brightened up.

"Yes," Amanda said. "A andorian/Vulcan hybrid. Sarek is quite taken after him. In fact, he loves the little boy. The little boy looks up to him so much." A little boy came running up along her legs. The little blue boy spoke in a small, tiny voice. Amanda had a kind laugh then looked up toward Burnham. "you know, this time Sarek got him over a race. Our Sarek, racing, against another diplomat. Claimed he was not treating the boy right. We decided to name him T'shay. He likes that name." Burnam looked down toward the young boy. "He is following the main milestones for a hybrid."

"Does Spock know?" Burnham asked.

"We decided that Spock get to know last," Amanda said.

"Hmm, quite illogical given that someday he might cross paths with them," Burnham said.

"I know what you are thinking," Amanda said. "But we are considering of telling Spock after he comes back from deep space."

"Understandable," Burnham said. "I look forward to my new adoptive brother during my visit."

"I wish you'll visit and meet your new siblings," Amanda said. "Taluhk nash-veh du." Amanda's figure vanished.

Red alert swept the room as the ship shook. The wail from the Klaxons echoing through the ship. Burnham speeded her way out of her quarters. She rushed onto the bridge where the air was still. The sounds of the equipment on the bridge filled the air. The bridge was glowing a light shade of red. Everyones eyes were stuck on the view screen. Georgiou stood there without a word. She was sitting in the chair unable to say a word. Burnham stepped forward as recognition came through her mind. Saru's threat ganglia came out in full force. Burnham came to the captain's side. The bird-of-prey was floating in space menacingly across from the starship.

"Captain," Burnham said. "Klingons will not respond to normal peace hailing," the screams of the Vulcan outpost came to her mind. Her Vulcan training, follow the Vulcan way, follow the Vulcan way, follow the Vulcan way, echoed in her mind. Detaching herself from her personal feelings regarding the Klingons. "Recommend firing first."

"They want war," Georgiou said. "then we won't give it."

Burnham looked over toward Georgiou.

"What will we give?" Burnham asked, as all eyes shifted toward the captain.

"A good battle, Number One," Georgiou said. Burnham nodded in agreement.

"Now, we are speaking in their language," Burnham said.

"Fire at will," Georgiou said.


	2. Sochya eh dif

In space, people don't hear screams. On starships, everyone can hear a crewmates scream and run to their aid. The Shenzhou was making defensive menurvers fighting back at the Klingon ship. Each blast rocketing the Walker glass slightly. The fifteen decks suffered attacks to their hulls. Crewmembers remained at their battle stations standing still holding on. The Klingons fired back at the nacelles sending the Shenzhou spinning in space. The Shenzhou fired back clipping one of the Klingon's wings sending the part spiraling away. Another Klingon vessel appeared resuming fire. Explosions can be seen from the Shenzhou off its decks. A distress call was sent from the Shenzhou. The scene fell down toward the inside of the ship as electrical fires erupted from panels. Going further and further down until the scene made it to the bubble that held the bridge. Burnham looked over, dismayed, toward Saru. Saru nodded, heartbroken. He was behind the rails This wasn't what they wanted. Burnham's heartbroken expression was replaced by a stoic one as she turned her attention onto the older woman. The firing seemed to decrease between shots giving a moment of calmality.

"Captain," Troy said. "Deck three and four has been destroyed."

"Order a evacuation," Georgiou said. "We will cover the evacuation."

"Philippa," Burnham said.

"Michael," Georgiou said, her eyes on Burnham.

"I am not leaving you here to die," Burnham said.

"You are the first officer of this ship and the crew needs a leader," Georgiou said.

"You are that leader, T'hy'la," Burnham said, placing a hand onto Georgiou's shoulder as she faced the woman in front of the chair. "I am not."

Burnham applied the Vulcan nerve pinch. Burnham slid the woman into her arms handing off to Saru. Saru nodded back to Burnham then left with the departing officers from their stations. Burnham watched the group leave the room. The once bright bridge grew darker around her. Burnham's kept a grip over her emotional distress keeping it at bay like a powerful tide on a beach getting ready to crash against her. Burnham slowly turned in the direction of the view screen. She sat into the captain's chair. The bridge officers had one final duty to do in the battle. The place she once called home was being destroyed before her eyes. Shaking with each blast. The rounded bridge with colorful red rails decorating the lower section of it making a pod like shape. Burnham felt regret that her time on the Shenzhou had to end like this.

"Orders, captain?" Detmer said.

"Cover the escape pods," Burnham said.

"Aye," Detmer said.

"Ensign Connor, continue being alert for any warp signatures," Burnham said. "Lieutenant Januzzi, contact Starfleet command. Inform them that we have engaged the Klingons."

"Aye," Januzzi said.

"Escape pods have left the Shenzhou," Detmer announced.

Burnham gripped onto the arm rest of the chair as the ship flew acting as a shield for the escaping pods.

"Lieutenant Januzzi, is there any remaining pods?" Burnham inquired.

"Two, captain," Januzzi said.

"You have performed your duty, follow the evacuation orders," Burnham ordered.

"With all due respect, captain, you might just get hailed by a federation ship in the middle of battle," Januzzi said. "You need a communications officer for that."

Burnham nodded.

"My mistake," Burnham said. "Continue manning your station."

"Aye, captain," Januzzi said.

"I won't make that mistake, again," Burnham said.

Januzzi had a small smile at that then turned back toward his station. She was sure of it. She still needed to do a lot of training in her career. This had never happened during her career in starfleet. Ship in the process of being utterly damaged. Main personnel evacuated. Ship being under attack by Klingons. It was a captains worst nightmare. The only worst nightmare Burnham had was losing her first captain. This was only a minor inconvenience. Only a small handful of bridge officers remained. Those who were Detmer, Connor, and Januzzi. The Shenzhou victoriously defended the fleeing escape pods.

"Captain!" Detmer shouted.

A unexpected blast struck the bridge sending a powerful blast knocking down most of the officers. The Shenzhou's escape pods warped into space fleeing from the battle. The Shenzhou was floating dead in space. The scene returned to the dark bridge where light cackled briefly on and off making a shadow on Burnham's face. Along the side of her head there was blood trailing down covering the sharpened tips of her eyebrows. She was laid on the floor laid on her side. She was faintly breathing. One hand was covering the lower part of her torso. Her face briefly displaying the pain she was it relaxed. A faint color of blue appeared along the sides of her face. Her eyes slowly opened. The scene backed out to reveal a colorful bright blue scenery. Burnham was standing up on her feet no longer sitting down. Sarek was across from her in his long Ambassador robes that seemed fancy and simple at once. The look of concern was easily seen in his eyes. A long distance mind meld.

 _"Is the Shenzhou under attack?" Sarek inquired._

 _"Yes," Burnham said. "I can't stay here for long."_

 _"Why?" Sarek asked._

 _"You know why," Burnham said._

 _"I do not," She was floating further and further away. "Michael, do not end this meld."_

 _"Logic dictates that one cannot allow a mind to melt when one is going," Burnham said._

 _"That occurs when one is dying and you are not," Sarek said._

 _"We have been attacked by the Klingons," Burnham said. Sarek's face fell. "They fired first."_

 _"You require medical attention," Sarek acknowledged._

 _"The ships crew evacuated," Burnham said. "The nearest ship is thirteen hours away. ."_

 _"Michael, if you go then a piece of me will be lost. Do not give up. You are much capable of more." Sarek said._

 _"The Klingons are going to board the ship and kill what is left of my bridge crew. We don't have weapons," Burnham said. "I will not give them the luxury of killing a acting captain."_

 _"Have you not learned much from your time aboard the Shenzhou or being around humans?" Sarek asked. "Anything can be a weapon."_

 _"Anything. . ." Burnham raised her head up as realization hit her._

 _"Dif-tor heh smusma," Sarek said, holding the ta'al up._

 _"Sochya eh dif," Burnham said._

 _"Wake up, Michael," Sarek said._

Burnham awoke with a deep breath leaning herself up. The cackling of the bridge was around her. Burnham noticed Januzzi by her side saying something yet she could not hear him. She blinked, regaining control over her breathing, and her hazy feelings. Januzzi placed her onto the chair. Faint lights in the room were powered on. Saru's station seemed to be destroyed entirely with pieces of it laid on the floor. The other stations were glowing in the dark. Burnham straightened herself onto the chair. Her familiar bonds ached with pain. As though she had been ripped out of them then neatly back back into place without the aid of a healer to repair. The ache from Sybok's side of the familiar bonds was screaming. Spock's side had no pain at all as though he removed himself from the bond all together. Her various family member bonds were muted or screaming in agony from the abrupt change in the family bond.

"System is running," Januzzi said. "Decks nine through thirteen have been destroyed." The first word Burnham heard was destroyed.

"Three Klingon vessels in range," Connor said.

Burnham saw the two undamaged Bird of Prey's in space while the third one seemed to be stopped in place.

"Do we have enough power for phasers?" Burnham asked.

"Yes, captain," Detmer said.

"What about reserve power?" Burnham asked.

"We have decks that are still operating on power," Januzzi said.

"Divert power to decks where the Klingons will board," Burnham said. "Depower the other decks to phasers."

"Powering on," Detmer said.

"Fire at the Bird of Prey," Burnham said. The bird of prey was near a perfectly intact bird of prey side by side that was keeping it up. "Now."

Phaser firing came from the Shenzhou striking the heart of the bird of prey. It blew into pieces damaging the second bird of prey heavily. The name plate of the Shenzhou was wiped off the hull in the ensuring firing. The firing from the Klingons came to a halt. The bridge was cackling here and there. It seemed to be empty at best. Faint lights were glowing in the dark showing not a sign of life.

* * *

On the transporter padd appeared appeared a dozen Klingons. The Klingons had curly dark hair with ridges on their foreheads covered in armor. Their hands were on their disruptor pistols. There was not a sign of transporter technician on sight. The lights in the purple and red room. The Klingons stepped off the transporter padd, warily. Six of the Klingons lacked locks of curly hair or a forehead ridge at all. The Klingons came over to the transporter console then communicated with their ship. The Klingons came out of the transporter room. The bright lights were still on displaying the curved walls.

The Klingons slowly crept their way down the hall. There were no sign of life. As though no one had been inside of the ship at all. There were dangling circuits from all over the place with panling on the floor. One of the Klingons tripped a line. In a snap, the Klingon had a scream. The Klingon was pressed against the wall thanks in part to a large desk. The Klingon's head was laid against his shoulder, limp. One of the Klingons checked for a pulse. The first officer shook her head. The Klingons howled. Their voices echoing through the halls. Then they continued their trek. The remaining Klingons split up going down different halls. Another Klingon came to a crewmen's quarters and was stabbed in the chest by a long stick like blade then fell to the floor. A Klingon took out a communicator then spoke in Klingonese. Burnham appeared from behind him over a raft then kicked him down.

The Klingon turned and fired at her.

Burnham leaned to her side narrowly getting hit.

Burnham caught the next fist then struck him in the face. The Klingon stumbled back. She ran up his chest then perform a kick knocking him down to the floor. Burnham came to his side then checked for consciousness. She dragged the Klingon's body into the brig then turned it on. The Klingon groaned. Burnham left the room. A few minutes later, Januzzi and Detmer dragged in another Klingon dumping him alongside the first. Another Klingon was discarded alongside him. And another and another. Until the next brig had to be used. Almost a dozen Klingons laid in the brig groaning. The scene backed up until it was encompassed by darkness. Until the transporter room was seen and a figure was seen. The Klingon captain came off the transporter padd then walked out of the transporter room. Detmer and Connor walked behind them sneaking into the transporter room.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are. . . I am Captain Tachallus."

"That does not sound like a Klingon name." Burnham said.

"It isn't. I chose it." Tachallus said.

"You don't look Klingon," Burnham said

"You don't sound human," Tallachas replied.

"You got me there, captain," Burnham's voice echoed. "Your mate treating you well?"

"My mate is waiting for me on my ship," Tachallus said.

"Children?" Burnham prodded.

"They are back home," Tallachus said

"Given what you have put me into. . ." Burnham started. "I don't want to kill people on this ship but you are forcing my hand."

"You are in our territory," Tachallus said.

"Klingons refused to attend the treaty in 2249," Burnham said. "regarding federation space and klingon space. If you wanted it, you would have sent a diplomat or a delegate for that matter," she sighed. "You are going to have to change if you want to keep territory." the Klingon's forehead ridges had piercings. He lacked eyebrows and hair for that matter. It was quite unsual for a Klingon to go bald and decorate their highly sensitive sensing head parts.

"Come out and show yourself," Tachallus said.

"You had a choice," Burnham said. "leave and let your crew die in a dishonorable battle. . . We didn't fire first."

Tachallus stopped.

". . . I heard otherwise," Tachallus said.

"If you want territory then you should get your crew and get out before your honor is stained," Burnham said.

"My honor is not stained," Tachallus said.

"It is, since you know the truth," Burnham argued.

"Vulcan," Tachallus said.

"Not quite. I am but then I am not." She landed in front of him. He stepped back in shock almost swaying himself. "The only way you can leave this battle honorably is a fight."

"You?" Tachallus asked, mockingly. "You wouldn't stand a chance against a Klingon."

Burnham raised an eyebrow then lowered it.

"I am willing to engage in exchange you take what is left of my crew and bring them to the nearest starbase," Burnham said.

"You wouldn't do that," Tachallus said.

"I am speaking to the Klingon who keeps their word," Burnham said. "I would." Tachallus looked down on the woman's sleeves then toward Burnham.

"Where is the captain?" Tachallus asked.

"Evacuated," Burnham said. "I am the acting captain of this vessel."

Tachallus took out his dagger then tossed it toward Burnham.

"Show me the worth of your honor," Tachallus said. "I give you my word."

Burnham slowly picked up the blade then charged down toward him. She stepped aside out of Tachallus's way then jabbed the dagger into the side of his torso. She yanked it out as she was stabbed in the shoulder making a tear in the uniform. Burnham retained her stoic demeanor not showing a sign of pain. She made a cut along Tachallus's shoulder that wasn't covered by the armor. Their blades struck each other making once or twice. Her communicator beeped as she struck a cut along Tachallus's hand. She ran along the corridor then landed behind the Klingon stabbing into his shoulder blade through a unexposed part of the Klingon uniform. It was like chainmail and less colorful than most Starfleet uniforms. It was dull and cracked in some places here and there. Burnham was quick to yank out the dagger. Tachallas left a cut on the woman's left cheek. Burnham made a long cut on his shoulder armor leaving a fine slit on the side of his neck. The next few cuts made tears into Burnham's uniform leaving a fold over the starfleet insignia. Burnham got through some parts that were not covered by heavy armor. Finally, Tachallus stabbed into the woman's left shoulder. Burnham took out her communicator.

"Burnham here," Burnham said.

"We got it, captain," Connor said.

"Klingon consoles are much more difficult than Vulcan," Januzzi said. "But we did it."

"You did what?" Tallachus said.

"Prepare for escape," Burnham said. "Burnham out." She closed the communicator.

"You lied to me," Tallachus said.

"Did I?" Burnham asked. "I wouldn't be lying if I let you kill me and take my crew alive."

Tallachus did not reply as he stared at her.

"Who do you think rigged the transporter machine?" Burnham asked. "I will be damned for letting my crew get out of here. They just found out they can't go back," she winced in pain as she slid down. "One of your great leaders said. . . honor is not in battle. . . but . . . how you treat your house and your fellow warriors." Burnham had the smallest of smiles as she was pressed against the wall.

"Kahless the unforgettable," Tallachus said.

"No," Burnham said. "Kortar. . ." She briefly closed her eyes. "Try, and escape, but you won't."

"And my other crewmen?" Tallachus said.

"They are in the brig, without their weapons," Burnham said. "It was . . deemed. . . illogical to let them kill themselves."

"You will reply to them!" Tallachus said.

"No," Burnham said. "If you leave, your honor gets tainted. If I leave. . ." Her eyes briefly closed. "Your honor is retained. If I were human. . . "

"You are human," Tallachus said.

"Not by my katra," Burnham said. "As a human. . . I would say . . . good luck."

Burnham lost consciousness. She was forcibly shaken by the Klingon, repeatedly. Burnham heard the Klingon storm off. She heard a thud of footsteps headed her way. She was in a light meditative trance. Her mind slowly slipped away. She heard a familiar voice calling her out. It sounded like Georgiou. Only she was not there. Of all the times the captain was there for the woman slowly getting out of her Vulcan shell, this just had to be the moment where she heard her voice and she wasn't there.

 _Baby girl. . ._

Her eyes opened.

"T'hy'la," Burnham said.

A dark figure came to her side.

"Burnham," it was Nambue. She recognized his voice.

"I ordered the crew to evacuate," Burnham said.

"Well, your fortunate that I was overseeing a finger regeneration," Nambue said. "Ensign Ru'hert lost a finger yesterday," he helped the woman to her feet with a hand wrapped around her waist. "Now, I think I have a medical pod up and waiting."

"I need to make my final log," Burnham said.

"Burnham, you got stabbed in the chest," Nambue said.

"That never stopped the captain," Burnham said.

"The captain is not a superhuman," Nambue said. "Neither are you."

"Fine, but after that, I must make my final log," Burnham insisted.

"If you trust your crew then leave it to them to make the final log," Nambue said.

"Anton. . ." Burnham said. "You are the most qualified officer to make that."

"I can't be the only lieutenant commander aboard," Nambue said.

"We are the only lieutenant commanders aboard this ship," Burnham said. "otherwise, we have lieutenants and then we have a ensign."

"Okay, how about you make that log and then I take care of you?" Nambue said.

"That is acceptable," Burnham said. "if we come across that Klingon captain, then let me finish him off."

"If we do then he is probably going to have a lot more of his friends," Nambue said, as they took a turn down the hall. "Do the turbo lifts have power?"

"I made sure of it," Burnham said.

"Good," Nambue said.

Nambue walked into the turbo lift. He placed the woman against the wall then took a leveler out and softly commented where he wanted to go. The turbo lift doors closed then it went down. Nambue looked over toward the woman. Half of her uniform was becoming stained in her blood. He took out his medical kit from over his shoulder. He peeled away the tear then applied a dermal generator. The pain made by the wound still stung but not as much as the cut that was no longer there. It was like the dagger was still inside of her torso. Stuck inside of it.

"I need a new uniform," Burnham said.

"You look fine, but the inside not so much," Nambue said.

Burnham slowly slid herself up onto her feet.

"I am adequate," Burnham said, as the doors opened.

Burnham flung herself onto the bridge with much force on her part to ignore the pain.

"Captain!" what was left of the bridge crew said in unison turning toward her.

"Our hailing was answered a minute ago," Januzzi said, hopefully, as she collapsed onto the red rail. "USS Discovery is coming."

"How hurt is she, doc?" Connor asked.

"A klingon stabbed her," Nambue said. "What kind of dagger, I can't be sure without having seen it."

"Can you be sure if you got it?" Connor asked.

"Yes," Nambue said.

"I will get it," Connor said.

"Ensign Connor, you will most certainly not," Burnham said, as he walked past her. "I will. . ." she pressed herself up against the railing. "Finish it."

"Captain, you are in no condition to fight with a Klingon," Detmer said, in agreement joining the man. "I will help him and we will bring back the dagger."

Burnham was guided over to the chair by Nambue.

"Don't die on me," Burnham said, her eyes glancing off toward the small crew still facing her. "You are my responsibility and mine alone." A smile appeared on the red head's face.

"All right, mom," Detmer said, teasingly. "we will."

Connor nodded.

"Be right back," Connor said.

The two went into the turbo lift then the doors closed on them. Burnham pressed a few buttons here and there on the arm rest to start the recording. Familiar buttons that she pressed on her first time serving the bridge when Georgiou was resting in sick bay. A memory she recalled with Saru pointing out which button did which. And what buttons not to press. She was relatively new to the captain's chair back then and now she was very familiar to it. Starfleet will pick up the log after it was transmitted. She watched the Klingon vessel fire at the third. The third bird of prey fired back numerous shots until the second ship was destroyed inflicting damage onto the third.

 **Acting Captain's log:** The Klingons fired first. Klingons do not talk peace and do not wish for peace when they normally fire first. Logically, we had to reply. My duty to the USS Shenzhou has been fulfilled. We have destroyed two bird of preys, as of far. Should I fail at keeping what is left of the bridge crew alive. . . I recommend commendations made for Lieutenant Commander Saru, Ensign Connor, Captain Georgiou, Lieutenant Januzzi, Commander Nambue, and Lieutenant Detmer. _End log._

Burnham pressed the button which transmitted the log.

"Say," Nambue said. "What if the Klingon captain went into one of the depowered decks?"

"He wouldn't survive it," Burnham said, sliding herself out of the chair.

"Captain!" Nambue said, as he placed a hand on her shoulder. "You should be resting."

"He is going to come down at any minute and finish what he started," Burnham said.

"You don't know that," Nambue said.

"Klingons like to have business settled before death," Burnham said. "A death they can control."

"That is no reason for you to have some rest," Nambue said. "You can't fight with a shoulder with that." Burnham raised a eyebrow up.

"Remember . . . ." Burnham started. "how I went through a sprained ankle to ensure Captain Georgiou's survival?"

Nambue snickered.

"Yes," Nambue said. "I do." he nodded, fondly. "It was funny to see you hopping into my sick bay."

"I am your superior officer," Burnham said. "My duty is to protect the crew," she looked over toward Januzzi with a smallest of smiles then back toward Nambue. "and you are part of my crew. You will leave him to me."

Nambue stepped aside and the turbo lift doors opened.

"Captain Burnham," Tachallus said. "I heard you were ready to do a . . kamikaze. Care to enlighten me."

Burnham unhid the dagger from behind her back with her still working arm.

"I would die before I let this ship be taken by Klingons," Burnham said. "I will die when I let my crew be killed." Tachallus slowly stepped down the stairs as Nambue came toward Januzzi's direction. The ship trembled as the Bird Of Prey's suddenly appeared without a warp signature. Her arm was lazily laid to her side without a purpose. As though she could not use it. "And I will die before I let you declare yourself as victorious against Starfleet."

"Starfeet, explorers, and yet you fight," Tachallus said, in a disgusted tone.

"I have no choice but to become what I am not to survive," Burnham said. "You should know that."

Tachallus lunged forward. Burnham made the shape of a 'x' on his chin while he made another cut onto her shoulder. Burnham stepped aside then turned coming to Tachallus's back. She stepped into the Klingon's back, firmly, without regrets. She severed the Klingon's spine in half. Tachallus collapsed to the ground before he could make a move. He was unable to move himself up. He laid on the floor. Burnham knelt down toward him.

"I will die before I take a life on a federation vessel when I don't have to kill," Burnham said.

"You should have killed me," Tachallus said.

"It would not have been honorable," Burnham said. She looked over the Klingon looking for the dagger that he stabbed her with. In his hand was a different dagger instead. "Lieutenant, request the crew return and take the captain to the brig. There's a spare room with his name on it."

"Aye," Januzzi said, then sent the announcement through the ship.

Burnham sat down into the captain's chair, calm and relaxed.

"How many vessels does that make it?" Burnham asked.

"About five," Nambue said.

"Five Bird of Prey's. . ." Burnham observed the stalling Bird of Prey's, waiting, for their next move.

"Captain," Detmer said, coming onto the bridge. "I found the dagger."

"Thanks, now hand it over," Nambue said, with a dark bag. Detmer deposited the blade into the bag.

"Uh, is that a Crossfield class?" Connor said, looking out. "I thought they hadn't been rolled out, yet."

"They haven't, last I heard," Nambue said.

The group looked over to see the starship attracting the attention of the Klingons. The bird of preys flew in its direction. They abandoned the starship then it vanished taking the bird of preys with it. with the center flying. Burnham and the rest of the bridge crew looked at it in shock. They were floating out in space with little to no back up. The officers turned in the direction of the commander.

"How fast can we get back to Earth?" Burnham said.

"At impulse power, I think it might take us two weeks," Januzzi said. He held his hands up "But I am not a engineer." His dark station beeped then he turned. "Shenzhou here." he was silent as all eyes were on him. He turned back toward them. "The USS Yeager is headed this way with back up to escort us back. Captain Maranville is reported to be covering our back until the others get there."

Burnham nodded.

"Inform Captain Maranville that we appreciate his offer," Burnham said. She turned her attention onto the view screen. "But we might not be here by the time he gets here. Klingons could appear where they shouldn't be."

"Those Romulans sure know how to arm the worst people possible with cloaking devices," Connor said. "Let's finish the job."

* * *

"Burnham?" Georgiou's voice came over the woman's shoulder.

Burnham's right hand was rubbing her unmoving left hand as she looked over toward the retired captain. Her arm was in a arm sling. It had been a week of chaos. Guilt. It was never supposed to end this way. None of it was. Her bridge crew were going their separate ways. In some ways going to different parts of the war. Burnham had done her best. The evidence was right across from her. Georgiou was in her admiral outfit. It was a white uniform with the admiral ranking on the sleeves. There was sparkles on the center of the outfit that was a shade of lighter gray making her face stand out. It was what Burnham liked about Starfleet uniforms on Georgiou. It made her look pretty. More than that, gorgeous. Like a queen.

"Philippa," Burnham said, tuning away from the space dock. The Shenzhou was under a refit. Repairs, to be more precise. Drastically needed repairs. The ship woudn't be the same again. And for some reason, that was reassuring. It was comforting. Change was going on but it was too large for the younger woman. Too big. She didn't like it.

"I heard you declined promotion," Georgiou said. "You were outstanding back there. From what I heard. You got a entire cell of Klingons to admit what happened. . . and you kept what was left of our crew alive."

"We're at war," Burnham said, softly.

"I heard," Georgiou said. "I feel bad that I cannot be up there fighting the good fight up there with you."

"I wish for that too," Burnham said.

"What do you mean?" Georgiou asked.

"It is going to be where I belong," Burnham said. She looked over toward Georgiou. "We lost the Yeager to Klingons. Rogue Klingons," she shook her head. "You should have seen their vessel. . . It was nothing like a Klingon. Hailing us. . . They looked like goblins with Klingon characteristics. The Klingons refused to call them Klingon. We couldn't help them. The Yeager chased them off to save us and we couldn't save them. I couldn't . . . Nacelles were out." she struggled to regain her composure. "I nearly killed a Klingon."

"We all do things that we don't like in battle," Georgiou said.

"I have resigned my commission," Burnham said. "I am going home to Vulcan. To figure out who I am. This battle . . . It made me wonder who I was sitting in that chair with a real threat and I was given several options. Rig the transporter console so the crew couldn't return and instead go home. Leaving I and Tachallus to fight it out. I would have killed him. Doctor Nambue would have evacuated me as soon as he found me. . . and the Klingons would have had a damaged trophy."

"But you didn't," Georgiou said.

Burnham nodded.

"I did not need to be talked as a hero but as a starfleet officer and to be given the chance of declining then given what I wanted," Burnham said. "I hope you find someone who is not like a mess as I am."

Georgiou reached her fingers out and two of her fingers touched Burnham's fingers.

"You are my mess," Georgiou said. "and I love my messes."

Burnham briefly closed her eyes then reopened them.

"Your ship will be repaired in a year," Burnham said. "Saru will require guidance to become something better than I." her mind was closed off from the woman. Familiar bonds that needed to be healed by a healer. "He will make a great captain of the Shenzhou."

"I wished it was you who would take over," Georgiou said.

"We cannot have what we want," Burnham said. "There are no regulations about Admirals commanding a ship and training a captain."

"I hate when you're right," Georgiou said, with a laugh.

Burnham raised a eyebrow.

"Really?" Burnham asked.

"No," Georgiou looked over toward Burnham. "I don't."

"Michael Burnham, your transport to Vulcan has arrived. . ." came over the intercomn.

"I shall go," Burnham turned away but Georgiou took her free arm.

Burnham shifted toward Georgiou.

"Promise me that you will keep contact," Georgiou said.

"As you wish," Burnham said, with a affectionate yet loving look back.

Georgiou's grip loosened and she let go of Burnham off to her own path.

"I will make sure she messages you weekly," Saru said, from behind her.

"You don't have to do that," Georgiou said.

"I stood seven years of pining, yearning, and I am not about to let you be miserable yearning after her during a war," Saru informed her. "I have contacts on Vulcan. Close contacts of Michael's." Georgiou smiled, folding her arms, watching the woman vanish among the crowd. It was all going to be okay.


	3. Tor talal t'nash-veh

_"We are being hailed," Januzzi said._

 _"On screen," Burnham said._

 _Captain Maranville appeared on screen._

 _"Captain Burnham, we are drawing the Klingons off," Maranville said. "that should keep them distracted long enough for the Shran and Europa to tow you back to safety. The Edison, Kerala and Clarke are going to be escorting you back."_

 _Burnham was helpless sitting on the chair. The Shenzhou didn't have enough power for the phasers to operate. Her ship was limping. Only on nacelle remained. There was enough impulse power to aid them in a slow escape if they tried without help. If they jumped to warp, they would be going at warp factor one. So she slowly nodded. She watched a cackle of electricity go off in the background of the captain. She gripped onto the arm rest of the chair to control her anger. The tactics they used to deplete the Klingon fleet could be called clever, and extremely risky. They didn't have enough room in their brig to house any more Klingons. Burnham was not in her yellow uniform but in the green wraparound variation._

 _"And you, captain?" Burnham asked._

 _"Don't worry about me or my crew," Maranville said. "they are big kids. Can take care of themselves."_

 _"We will honor your sacrifice," Burnham said._

 _"The best way you can honor me is get out of here in one piece and don't self destruct," Maranville said. "Starfleet always comes back for their own. Maranville out."_

 _Burnham watched the Yeager vanish into the night sky taking the heat away._

 _The bridge returned to complete darkness._

The darkness faded as a door slowly opened to reveal the surroundings had changed to a bedroom. It was a generic one. The curtains were slid back to reveal Burnham with wild, curly black hair on her shoulders. She was in a long dress like outfit that seemed to be a various range of light purple. She sighed gazing toward the desert like scenery. A pack of sehlats were gathered resting on a plot of land. Burnham made her way toward her meditation mat. A familiar anchor that kept her mind at ease. She sat down then prepared to cleanse her thoughts that had came up in her mind during rest. The chaotic thoughts slipped away. Relief smoothly came over her mind. A familiar, welcoming kind.

Burnham eased herself up then prepared her outfit of the day. Then prepared herself a cool, comforting shower. A cool colored dress with long sleeves. Not everyone on Vulcan wore long sleeves. There were few who decided to brave the hot weather and the sandy environment on their long treks with short sleeves depending on how hot it was that day. The ringing from the comn terminal drew her attention off what she was about to do. She came to the machine alongside the bed then tapped on it, gently. Georgiou appeared at a table with her hands in her lap.

"Morning, Michael," Georgiou said.

"Greetings, T'hy'la," Burnham greeted, warmly.

"I need some advice," Georgiou said.

Burnham raised a eyebrow skeptically.

"Did Saru get thrown out of another command because of his anxiety?" Burnham then added with a concerned tone, as clone to concern that a Vulcan could. "Again."

"No. He has not," Georgiou said. "He is behaving himself."

"Then what is it?" Burnham asked.

"I am having family problems," Georgiou said.

"What kind are they?" Burnham asked.

"They don't like what I am doing in this war," Georgiou said.

"You are part of the war council," Burnham said. "war is difficult."

"But is it justified?" Georgiou asked.

"Depending on the situation," Burnham sad.

"Then it is just not justified. I am doing what is right. Not what a Earthly War General would do."

"You are doing better than a war general, Pippa." Burnham said.

"Eight thousand people have died so far because of this war," Georgiou said.

Burnham folded her arms turning toward the window.

"That is disheartening," Burnham said.

"Which brings me to the inevitable. We are getting desperate. We have to end this war. My brothers don't like what I am going to do," she looked down toward her hands. Burnham slowly came toward the woman's front then placed her hands around the hologram's cupping around them. "things are growing in starfleet and they seem rotten. The reports I read. . . We have to do it during a war. . . It's going to be a mess when it is over. It's like a wild fire. Everything we do, everything we do only makes it stronger and go on."

"Philippa Wang Georgiou, calm down," Burnham said, regaining her attention. "If you are doing what is right. . . then you don't need to worry."

"I wish I thought like you," Georgiou said.

"Not allowing emotions to control you is the Vulcan way," Burnham said. "It would help you a lot during the war."

"Emotions help me deal with what is going," Georgiou said.

"I don't like war just as you do," Burnham said. "You can put it to rest by telling your brothers how you feel. I have learned . . ." she placed her hands in the shape of the mind meld along the woman's face. "that it is very beneficial."

"Thank you for listening," Georgiou said.

"Any time you wish," Burnham said, with a slight nod drawing her hands away.

Georgiou vanished from the bedroom. Burnham made her way out of her quarters to the kitchen. Her new adopted siblings, all of which came into the family after her entrance to Starfleet, ranged in age from eight to twelve. They had different variations of the Vulcan bowl cut and in new variations of the Vulcan Learning Center's uniform. They were, instead, in yellow uniforms. The yellow outfit made them blend in with the scenery of Vulcan sands. Her time on Vulcan had proved helpful in repairing the damage done to her familiar bonds. In all of her career, she hadn't been on the brink of death that close since Sarek saved her life. Burnham got to know the newcomers quite well in the past six months.

They were so different and yet so unique compared to her.

They were respective about her and curious about her time on the Shenzhou.

Sarek and Amanda had gone up and left on a Starfleet emergency leaving her to care for the children.

Amanda taught linguistics at the Vulcan Learning Center.

A class that she was passionate about.

Amanda sometimes had a "brainfart" when it came to words and instead said it in another language. It was amusing at times to see her that way. Though Burnham suspected that Amanda had began to pretend that she forgot in order to make her laugh when alone with her. It was what eased her transition to being Vulcan and less human. In private, she could be emotional as she want. Sarek had gathered a collection of children after adopting her and then came across Amanda. Those familiar bonds formed over time with some help on Sarek's side. Burnham cared for the children. Sarek would never admit that he appreciated having someone from the family taking care of the children during abrupt emergencies but Amanda would say it bluntly. Taking care of others had helped in some part finding who Burnham was. A leader? A scientist? A soldier? A mother? A teacher? A caretaker? She wasn't quite sure. But she wasn't Michael Burnham of the S'chn T'gai Clan. Although she was sure of supervising children was a similar task to overseeing a group of colonists.

"Good morning, sister," T'Shay greeted.

"Morning, little brother," Burnham said, setting the table.

"Did you see the new entry about the sapient anomaly?" T'Shay asked, earning a head raise from Burnham.

"Sapient anomaly?" Burnham repeated.

"It is like a gas cloud," T'Shay said.

"Quite fascinating," Burnham said. "Sapient gas clouds. . . The'lik, set the table," the tall Andorian/Klingon like child grabbed the forks. "That must be in the attention of the Vulcan Science Academy."

"No, it was discovered by a federation vessel in the middle of battle," T'Shay said. "It converged the Klingons into matter." Burnham turned raising a eyebrow, concerned, as she handed the bowls to the children. "And then it. . . burped out the bird of prey. Without anything to study from the cloaking device. Completely destroyed. The Klingons bodies were no where in sight."

"And this was. . ." Burnham said.

"Last week," T'Shay said, as The'lik finished setting the table. "It calls itself. . SamIam."

"Sam I am," Burnham said. It clicked. "That's a Dr Seuss character."

"Dr Seuss?" T'Shay asked.

"It's a beginners book," Burnham said. "You will have to give it a read."

"Perhaps so," T'Shay said. "I will give it a look."

"It is a unique read," Burnham said. "I believe Amanda hid it . . somewhere. . . around here."

"Mother hiding books?" T'Shay said.

"How else do you think she keeps the books preserved?" Burnham asked.

"I always thought she somehow copied it and threw the old material away," T'Shay said. "I have now found that it would have been a waste of resources. Given the state of being the books were when I last handled them, it would have been illogical to throw them away."

"Correct," Burnham said, preparing the children's breakfast. "Have you fed the sehlat?"

"Sehlat's been fed," The'lik said.

"Uh huh," added the shortest of them all. A tallerite/Vulcan like hybrid.

"Anyway," T'Shay said. "The Vulcan Science Academy is very interested in the gas being and plans to send some scientists there to study it long term."

Burnham finished the individual breakfeast for children then placed the the food onto their plates. Burnham prepared her plomeek soup then sat down among the children. What was left of the morning food was a empty series of plates and bowls set on the counter. The children went off to take their showers. The sehlat in the center of the living room. Burnham performed her duties taking care of the dishes by hand. She had a rhythm. One that she had fine tuned to the schedule of the children. She found herself missing putting away the trays to be recycled in the past six months. Her dreams had flashes of the Shenzhou here and there. It felt strange to be planet side. She rubbed her shoulders looking off to see the shape of T'Khut in the distance. There, on that planet, was a Vulcan facility. Burnham thoroughly cleaned her hands after the last bowl. The children came down the hall with their knapsacks. Burnham had a small smile on her face seeing the children lining themselves up accordingly.

And then there was a knock at the door.

A rapid, urgent knock.

The children looked over in the direction of Burnham in confusion.

"Remain calm," Burnham said.

Burnham made her way down the hall. She pressed a button and the doors slid open to reveal Vulcan guards.

"Michael Burnham?"

"Yes, this is her."

"Your starfleet commission has been reactivated. You have been drafted."

"I require a caregiver for the children,"

"T'Pau has taken care of that,"

Burnham raised a eyebrow tilting her head all the slightest then turned toward the children who seemed to be heartbroken. T'Pau's hand in the situation either meant it wasn't Admiral Georgiou but someone else higher up. This was the perfect time for Sarek to have a problem handled by someone else. There were times where he handed most of Burnham's problems to Amanda, at least ones that he could not help in. Though Burnham had some doubt that her father had requested her comission be activated again.

"Upon my return, you must have read Green Eggs and Ham," Burnham said.

"We shall," the children said in unison.

Burnham turned her attention away from the children.

"Before I go, I will need my boots on," Burnham said.

* * *

There are some humans who say " _Nothing better with jumping in with your boots on a mess,_ "

Michael understood that phrase even better than she had seven years ago.

The shuttle craft took her up to the large starship.

A Crossfield class.

Now in plain view, out of danger, not behind screen.

It resembled a IDIC symbol with nacelles.

It was quite a fascinating, breath taking sight.

Up close, she was able to see the gaps in the enter. It had a Klingon like figure to it rather than a federation kind of vibe. The shuttle craft flew into the hangar. The hangar was massive and wide. The Shenzhou's shuttle bay was smaller at best. The shuttle craft came to a gentle landing. The side doors opened. Burnham walked out of the shuttle with her hands in her sleeves. She had switched from her morning outfit into a two piece out fit that consisted of a short sleeved shirt and figure fitting pants. Her hands were linked behind her back walking down the stairs. The other officers opened the back end where only one duffle bag was laid inside. Burnham was handed the duffle bag.

Through the doors came out the security officer. Her eyes went to the woman's unlinked hands. Correction, _first_ officer.

"Greetings," Burnham said, holding her unlinked hand up with the ta'al sign.

"Hello, I am Commander Landry," Landry said. "You are the assigned second officer. Welcome to the Discovery, Commander Burnham." she gestured toward the door stepping aside. "Right this way."

Burnham walked after the commander.

Together they walked through curved, lighter corridors. There was a bulky comn panel on the wall. She observed the white ceiling. There were no rafters compared to the older classes. There was no lines in the walls yet there were wide black screens on them. High tech and decorated with touch screens only said that it had to go back for repairs a lot. More often than the Shenzhou had to get when it came to updating its systems and stations. Short term missions were likely required for this kind of vessel. The intensity of the light seemed slightly off. Not as bright as a normal starship.

"Captain Lorca has photo-sensitivity," Landry said. "Otherwise, we would have a much brighter hall."

"Light intensity," Burnham said.

"I was the only one who didn't look," Landry said. "His penance for losing the Buran."

"The Buran," Burnham said. She recalled the image of the Einstein class on the screen in the mess hall. All eyes were laid on it. Georgiou's eyes remained focused on the image as it appeared on the screen with hands clasped together on the table. The look on Georgiou's face easily said she didn't believe a word. And now she understood it was wise to follow that same belief. "I heard that vessel got lost in a deep space triangle."

"Now that is not true," Landry said. "The truth is, the captain, I, and senior officers of the ship managed to escape during the battle. Lorca had to self-destruct the ship in order to not let the crew fall into the hands of Klingons."

"Why was that not reported?" Burnham asked.

"Starfleet believed the Klingon attacks would go away," Landry said. "Too late to rectify that mistake in public." Landry came to a stop at a doorway. "These are your quarters," she nodded. "The places you are assigned to as second officer will be in the file."

"Places," Burnham said.

"You are a xenoanthropologist," Landry said. "Whatever you may be doing on your own time will be easy enough to put aside. See you later."

Landry walked away then Burnham walked in front of the doors.

The doors opened before her to a different quarters. There were two beds across from each other. On both sides of the room there was windows that showed space. The quarters were colorful compared to the white hall lacking anything other than black. The walls were themed in purple. There were even purple plants around the small room as decoration. There was a sonic shower door, uniform synthesizer, and cabinets. Burnham stepped into the quarters. It was quite a spacious quarters. It was similar to a room ensigns had to share with another ensign. Burnham stopped once making her way over toward the small table. The only way she could be sharing a room with a ensign was if her rank had been reduced. But since she had been acknowledged by Commander-it didn't make sense. The beds were equally red and sparkling different from the light purple bedding that Burnham was used to. The doors wooshed open. A young woman in a red uniform jumped onto her bed then turned on her side. Burnham sensed something from her. It was fascinating. Like a link. Sometimes it hurt to be psi-positive the way she was with the high ESP rating.

"Greetings," Burnham said.

The young woman bolted up.

"Ohmigod, I am sorry, I didn't notice you, you're my roommate? Ohmigod, I have a roommate!"

"That I am," Burnham said.

"Ensign Sylvia Tilly," Tilly said.

"Michael Burnham," Burnham said,

"Isn't that a man's name?" Tilly asked.

"It was," Burnham said, coming over to the opposite bed. "but now it is who I am."

"Oh," Tilly said, as it dawned on her. She smiled back at the woman. "Well it certainly fits you."

"Thank you," Burnham said.

"I talk too much when I get nervous," she fiddled with her fingers as she continued. "I just graduated the academy, top of my class, and I was so excited to go down into deep space months ago. That was before the war happened . . . Space. . . . It's mysterious and theoretical engineering can be applied. Mom hasn't been supportive of that and thinks, actually tells me, that I would do better as a hair stylist." Tilly had a laugh as she sat on the edge of her bed. "Me, a hair stylist? She is insane."

"Hair stylists enjoy talking and normally are very social people," Burnham said. "It is not a insane thought."

"Most stylists I met are not talkative," Tilly said.

Burnham shrugged.

"Some people are talkative and some people are not," Burnham said. "I am biased."

"So am I," Tilly said. "So what is your rank?"

"I am not entirely sure," Burnham said.

"I asked a little too much for a roommate," Tilly said. "I just, really, really, really like company."

"I do not mind being company to a ensign in a time of war," Burnham said. "Perhaps I do need some stress relief. . ." her eyes glanced off toward the distance. "Surak knows when meditation will fail me."

"Black alert. Black alert. Black alert." came the female voice from over the intercomn.

Tilly turned onto her bed landing on her side and became quiet.

"Black alert?" Burnham said, puzzled.

Burnham rubbed her shoulder, a habit that she picked up from rubbing it when it felt sore.

"Spore drive," Tilly said.

 _Spore drive?_

Her arm was now in working order.

The recovery time it took to get it working again had taken some time. Slow but gradual and very elating on her state of mind. Burnham looked over to see light blue like ice growing on the windows. She stared at it in confusion. Why would lightning bugs be doing out there above Vulcan? This wasn't the place they wouldn't be. It wasn't that deep into space. Burnham walked over toward the uniform synthesizer then pressed on the buttons. The machine scanned her with blue light. It beeped. She slid open the small square door. There was her uniform. Burnham carefully took it out placing it onto the table. She looked over toward Tilly then back toward the uniform. She slid out of her Vulcan robes. She turned on the computer after getting dressed. A mirror image of her appeared displaying the blue and black outfit. The metal insignia on her chest. Her ranking laid on her sleeves. Burnham felt eyes on her. Burnham looked over to see Tilly under the red covers.

Burnham picked up her padd then checked on what was sent to her.

Perhaps then things will make sense.

She didn't mind having a roommate.

It was nice for a change no longer being in command.

But it didn't make sense why she was bunked up with a ensign.

Was she the only transfer to the ship as of this month that could be afforded?


	4. A place to discover oneself

"Thank you for listening," Saru thanked the older woman.

"It is no problem, Saru," Georgiou's voice came off the screen. "War makes everyone feel displaced."

Saru nodded.

"Saru out," Saru said.

He placed his hands onto his face with his elbows on the desk with a sigh then rubbed the side of his forehead.

* * *

Saru kept a eye on the Shenzhou. A live feed from his office. He watched it change from a ship of exploration to a ship of war. Metal surrounded the bottom hub giving only a small view screen to see what was going on reinforcing the bridge. Several decks were reinforced. No one knew how the war was going to last but historically wars lasted years. His command was very hopeful that it would end in a couple of months. From what he knew, the Shenzhou was turning into a war vessel commanded by Georgiou. He had signed on for that before his departure to a series of commands that failed. The repairs were going quicker than he had expected. It would take one month for the repairs and quick refit to be done.

Acting as First Officer to Captain Fr'rake aboard the USS Cochrane doubling as chief science officer.

The Cochrane trembled.

"Damage report," Fr'rake requested.

"Decks five through nine have been damaged, engineering has reported power has been lost to the nacelles," Lieutenant Smart shifted toward the Andorian captain. "we are sitting ducks, captain."

"They got us," Fr'rake said.

"Captain," Saru began. "I recommend that we get out of here with impulse power and leave the colonists to protect themselves."

Fr'rake looked over toward Saru with a hard, angry expression

"If we leave them, Number One, they will die," Fr'rake said. "Self-preservation and selflessness doesn't belong in Starfleet. It doesn't belong in war, either," Saru nodded. "We got people counting on us." Fr'rake turned his attention toward the view screen. "Phaser power?"

"We got phaser power, captain," came the reply

"Fire at will," Fr'rake said.

The phasers fired on the fleet of Klingon Vessels. Suddenly, a Crossfield class appeared out into space firing on the Klingons. The Klingons changed course toward the federation vessel leaving the Cochrane to safety. One by one the Klingons were being decimated. Cochrane had suffered over a dozen blasts from the enemy ship. The bridge crew watched the Discovery rotate away with the last two Klingon vessels in a bright blue light. Saru stared at it in shock.

"Remaining Klingon vessels are retreating," came the report.

Fr'rake turned toward the chief of engineering.

"Lieutenant Briggs, wow long will it take to bring those nacelles up and running?" Fr'rake asked.

"Thirteen hours, twelve if we don't take a break and have protection," Briggs said.

"Set up your repair team," Fr'rake said. She turned toward Smart. "How many have we lost?"

"Causalities are at thirteen," Smart said, with one hand on the screw in his ear. "medical teams are checking for injured."

Fr'rake sighed in relief.

"Good," Fr'rake said. "You did good today, soldiers." She turned her attention on to Saru. "Mr Saru, you have the bridge."

Saru was not cut out for war.

What he was cut out for was exploring.

And perhaps running away if required.

His threat ganglia was tucked back into his skull.

Six months in a time of war had not been kind on him. He lost colleagues due to some of his decisions. One would think his advice would be useful in the field. Fr'rake walked right past him toward the turbo lift doors. Saru made his way toward the captain's chair. This was a newer model with a flat screen that had colorful buttons on both sides. The bridge was still colorful as the Shenzhou with buttons around the flat screens that glowed brightly. The change to screens was jarring for Saru. Not used to this kind of change. What he was used to was being constantly threatened by predators. His stubby fingers were placed on the arm rest. He was learning the ropes of command. Burnham did better than he did, Saru believed. He looked forward to his return to the Shenzhou. More experienced and better prepared for what Georgiou would have in mind.

* * *

"Commander Burnham," came the dark doctor as he entered the room.

"Doctor Culber," Burnham greeted him as she sat on the biobed.

"I have heard so much about you from Detmer," Culber said, as he took out a hypospray. "did you get your shots in the last six months?"

"No," Burnham said. "I have a very effective immune system for Vulcan."

"For the Discovery, I don't think so," Culber said. "Sleeve up."

Burnham obeyed sliding her sleeve up then he applied the hypospray.

"Is there a reason why the ship has lightning bugs?" Burnham said.

Culber took out another hypospray.

"Well, we jumped into a new area of space awhile go," Culber said, then applied it against her arm. He took out another. "Biggest jump we've done so far before then."

Burnham raised her eyebrows then turned her head away, processing it. The file was not lying about her new assignment. Spore drive, out of mushrooms, through a mycelium web. It was what kept the universe together like a spiderweb that served as short cuts to point a to point b. It was all too fantastic. It could change the face of warp drive forever. Replace it, essentially. It was part of her class regarding quantum physics at the Vulcan Science Academy. Culber finished the shots placing them onto the table. He looked over toward her as she slid the sleeve down. She had a stoic mask that replaced the confused look on her face.

"For someone who handled themselves at the battle of the binary stars quite well, I am surprised you changed career tracks," Culber said. "Detmer talks like you were a captain." then he added, lightheartedly. "And taller."

"That," Burnham said. "I am not." She slid off the biobed.

"Wait, before you go," Culber darted out of the room through a open doorway. "Could you give this to Lieutenant Stamets?" Culber handed her a pot with mushrooms. "He left this in my office by accident. It's not a gift." Burnham slightly tilted her head. "His gifts are not mushrooms. He gives me . . ."

"Flowers," Burnham finished.

"Better," Culber said. "Cockspur Coral."

"I do have to go to engineering," Burnham said. "I shall take it to him."

"You're a life saver," Culber said, handing the pot to Burnham. "Thanks."

"You are welcome," Burnham said, then made her way down out of Sick Bay.

As Burnham went through the corridor, she overheard whispers. Officers walking past her looking at her with admiration. Talking about her in a highly regarded way. It was guilt and regret inside Burnham. That she didn't get killed in the battle. They saw her as a captain rather than a starfleet officer among them. She had refused the interviews that the press had tried to get during the tow back to starfleet and during her time on Vulcan. The other bridge crew members, of course, talked. She didn't need to talk as they could tell the story. Their stories were greatly exaggerated but at the core of the stories there was nothing about them that seemed false. She had studied the directions of the ship and had been taken on a tour largely in part to the yeoman Kram. Tilly went to bed last night without her pillow and snored, loudly. It was in the middle of the night that Burnham placed the pillow under the ensigns head. The atmosphere around the ship was bright and hopeful compared to the slightly dark corridors. She made her way into engineering. Engineering was, needless to say, extremely different. She looked around in awe. There was a transparent glass door that separated one half from the other. A field of mushrooms with a stair case above it. She stepped down the series of stairs with intrigue.

"Fascinating," Burnham said, softly as she turned toward the field.

"Commander Burnham," came a unique, yet odd alien voice. Burnham turned to see a Tardigrade with a specially designed Starfleet uniform that had a sash on his torso that had the starfleet badge on it. He had two zippers set below the chest in the torso. "I am the head officer of engineering. Commander Ephraim."

"I am honored to meet you," Burnham said.

"As am I," Ephraim said. "You are early for your shift."

"Doctor Culber wants the mushroom pot returned to Lieutenant Stamets," Burnham replied, factly.

"He is in the mushroom lab," Ephraim said. "Welcome to engineering . . . You can find him talking to the mushrooms. He is the loudest. " then moved himself over to a control panel.

Burnham had a look of awe at the strange alien being.

She had never seen that kind of alien Tardigrade before.

It was all quite. . . fascinating.

The doors slid back. She entered through the doors making her way down the guided path. There were various types of mushrooms all over the place. There were science officers among the scenery scanning the mushrooms with their tricorders. A few were taking care of the mushrooms. Burnham kept on her walk making the occasional turn or two. She came to a stop when she saw a lone man talking to mushrooms. He wore special gloves while taking care of them sliding something into a vile. Burnham came to a stop lingering in the background. He was in a science officers uniform. This had to be Stamets. Stamets stood up then turned toward her.

"What are you looking at?" Stamets asked.

Burnham approached the astromycologist.

"Culber wanted the mushrooms returned to you," Burnham said.

"Oh!" Stamets speeded over toward Burnham. "I wondered where I put them." Burnham slid the pot over into the man's hands stepping back. "You can go on now." Stamets added in a dismissive tone. Stamets held the pot to one crook of his arm then performed a scan on the mushrooms.

Burnham turned from Stamets then walked away. She felt like she was walking through a garden of aura lights with gorgeous sights here. But it was freaky at the same time that made it this way. Burnham made her way out of the mushroom lab. The doors closed behind her. She noticed there were blue spores on her uniform so she dusted it off coming to the center of the room. She looked up sensing someone's eyes was on her. There was a strong odor coming from across. There was Tilly at the entrance waving back at her excitedly in engineering reds. Engineering was like a unique blend of advanced technology with old. There was a container from across with two machines that had drills facing the floor. There were computers decorating the darkly lit room. There were fewer stations than expected in engineering manned by officers of different species. Burnham came over to the side of Tilly.

"So what do officers here do usually?" Burnham asked.

"We find code that is wrong and remove it," Tilly said, as a holographic screen appeared above her station. "fix code."

Burnham turned on the station and the holographic screen appeared.

"This resembles a computer virus," Burnham said. She looked over in intrigue. "Care to explain that?"

"It is a hybrid version that works with the spores," Tilly said, highlighting a section to the screen.

Yeoman Kram came down the stairs.

"Ensign Tilly, your medically recommended breakfast," Tilly looked over and grimaced. "It helps you get more nutrition."

"Over hot dogs, burgers, and soda?" Tilly asked.

"Correction, that is sliced sausage," Burnham said. "not a hotdog."

"I am not having that," Tilly said.

"Doctor Soval said that your require nutrition with the exercise you do to replace what you lost," Kram said. "He has changed your access to this kind of food in the mean time. Such as having salsa. And burritos."

"All right," Tilly said, taking the tray. "Smoothies can wait."

"And Tilly, get the exercise uniform out. You smell," Kram said. "Sincerely, your yeoman."

"Sorry," Tilly said, apologetically. "I was excited on my first day of duty with my roommate."

"Do you get lonely without company?" Burnham asked, as the Andoran yeoman left the same way he came.

"No-um-maybe, I-I-I am used to not having company," Tilly said. "Mom used to be so picky with me that I go out of my way and not be in her company. Dad didn't help a bit," she looked down toward her hands. "Having a roommate is like having a friend put in there organically and I don't know how to keep that friend when I am so new."

"Perhaps I can join you in your daily exercise," Burnham said.

Tilly had a surprised expression.

"Join me?" Tilly said. "You'll outrun me."

"Not if you outrun me," Burnham said. "You require a mentor and you are very ambitious."

"I plan to become captain, with the war or without the war," Tilly said. "Maybe the youngest. But no one is going to be in my way. They are getting trampled over these fists."

"You mean feet," Burnham said.

"Yes, that," Tilly said, nodding proudly.

"I can help you with that," Burnham said. "How about tomorrow morning we start with running down to the simulation deck."

"That is awesome!" Tilly said. "I like you."

Tilly balanced her tray on the station then reached forward grabbing the woman into a hug. Burnham's hands were linked her back so Tilly's hands were wrapped around the woman's waist. Tilly radiated joy that made the mysterious link grow between them. Burnham distinctively felt the link. It was as strong and firm as the one with Georgiou. She had more than one soulmate? T'hy'lara? But that was astronomical to find a soulmate in ones lifetime. Finding someone to love was less astronomical than finding a T'hy'la. There were bed time stories about T'hy'la's and the great lengths they did to reunite. Most of these stories were about warriors. Burnham was frozen where she stood letting the hug go on. Tilly let go of the woman.

"You okay, Vulcan friend?" Tilly asked.

"Adequate," Burnham said. "I recommend you eat your breakfeast." Tilly reached forward. "After your shower."

"Aww," Tilly said. "I will," she picked up her tray then headed her way out.

Burnham had a small smile watching the woman walking away. She caught herself rubbing her shoulder then took it off. The healers had told her to cut the habit out after her arm was able to move as normal. She was still working on it. Burnham turned toward her station then began to work on the code.


	5. Mushrooms are interesting

Ephraim boarded the container. A nurse unzipped the zippers to his side then slid open the blue container. The tardigrade like alien stood upward as the nurses stepped back. There were more equipment than normal around the gray-blue container. Spores flew around Ephraim within the container as the long blade like daggers were put into his body. Ephraim was relaxed. As though he were not in pain. Burnham watched from her station. Then it felt like the ship itself had jumped with her along. She gripped onto the station. The ship came to a gentle stop. The daggers ejected out of Ephraim.

"Lieutenant Stamets, Commander Burnham, Ensign Tilly, Ensign Kowski, report to the shuttle bay," came over the intercomn.

Burnham had finished her shift when the announcement came over.

"Urgh," Stamets groaned, coming out of the mushroom section. "What can possibly be so important to drag me away from this study."

"Your interest is in mushrooms, is that it?" Burnham inquired, as he joined her to the doors.

"I am a Astromycologist," Stamets said. "It's not a special interest or a hobby. It's a career field."

"Logically, then," Burnham said. "there will be mushrooms. And it will be worth your time."

"Wait," Stamets said, finally observing the woman. "I thought the new science officer was going to be Vulcan."

"I am from Vulcan, raised among them, but that does not make me Vulcan," Burnham said.

"Okay, so a Vulcan-human kind of detail?" Stamets asked.

"None of my ancestors had a relationship with humans," Burnham said.

"A human who is Vulcan like," Stamets said. "That is not bad after all."

Burnham raised her right eyebrow as Stamets walked ahead of her.

* * *

When they arrived to shuttle bay, there were several escape pods being disembarked. There were medical officers checking on their condition. Some of hem seemed to have mushrooms growing on them. Stamets appeared to be intrigued by the sight as he was drawn over to a yeoman taking his tricorder with him. Burnham came to the lone shuttle craft with two security officers protecting it. Those two officers were Kowski and Landry. Landry was watching the last of the escape pods leave space entering the premises. Tilly was inside the shuttle craft getting familiar to a red EVA suit that was covered in sparkles all over. There were several EVA suits in total resting on the chair.

Landry turned in the direction of Burnham.

"Where is Stamets?" Landry asked.

"He is speaking with a survivor," Burnhams said, gesturing over her shoulder.

"Straal!" Stamets shouted, breaking through the crowd coming toward. Burnham shifted toward the lieutenant who sounded very happy. "Straal!" Stamets collided with the man into a hug. Straal kept his ground. Straal had little umbrella soft growing shapes along his hands. They split apart and Stamets rapidly fired questions. Culber came to the two men's side with a medical kit. Burnham turned back toward Landry.

"Looks like the EVA suits have to be used," Landry said. "Ensign Kowski, if Stamets doesn't come in five minutes, drag him back."

"Aye, Commander," Kowski said, with a nod.

Burnham came into the shuttle craft. Tilly was in her one piece red sparkly uniform that seemed to blend in with her. Tilly's boots were laid in a small cubbie located across from one of the seats. There were eight seats behind the pilots chair and navigator chair. Burnham came to the right side seating herself down on to one of the seats picking off the suit off the seat. Tilly was seated next to Burnham. Burnham took off her boots then moved the red boots over.

"How do I look?" Tilly asked, with a wide smile.

"It looks adequate on you," Burnham said, putting her feet into the suit first.

"Thanks," Tilly said. "So, are these new?"

"These are for environments that have oxygen," Burnham said. "white EVA suits are built to give oxygen in environments that do not have them."

"Coool," Tilly said. "I like these." she placed her hands onto her shoulders. "They make me feel soooo warm."

"That is their purpose," Burnham said.

"So they are for a somewhat empty environment that might have a biological contagion going on?" Tilly said. "A environment that might not have the heat on at all?"

"Precisely," Burnham said.

"Icky," Tilly said.

Burnham shared the same feeling. It was more than once she had to go into a containment that had a biohazard. The sights she had seen made the desire to puke take over briefly and only fleetingly. Burnham put her arms in to the sleeves moving the suit up gingerly. She put on the tight gloves that felt warm against her skin. Burnham placed the helmet over her head. Tilly velcrowed the back of the uniform putting it together. Tilly had a bright smile back at Burnham. A warm feeling spread through Burnham's chest. Burnham turned her attention away from the younger woman.

"Thank you," Burnham said.

"You're welcome," Tilly said. There was a short pause between them. "So. . . how does it feel to not be a first officer on a ship again?"

"Relieving," Burnham said.

"No burdens on your shoulders, leaving the worry to someone else that the mission is going smoothly, and not having to . um. . . uh. . live in the moment," Tilly said, as Burnham's eyes were on her.

"I have been taking the human token of 'Living life to the fullest' since getting a starfleet commission," Burnham said. "The last part that you mentioned was not right. The last. . . I am grateful I do not have to be in the position of command. Can you imagine enjoying fighting a Klingon?"

"Uh, no, but I can try," Tilly said, her hands cupped in her lap.

"Getting revenge is at the tip of your fingers. . . for everything they've done to people or to yourself.. . ." Burnham said. "I was going to do that as Captain Tallachus approached me. But then I realized, a warrior in Klingon culture would be deemed with honor. And it would seem I have reason to kill Klingons. Give them a reason to die. So I resorted to not doing it at all."

"You survived," Tilly said. "With your morals."

"That I did," Burnham said. "But it made me question who I was."

"Like your identity?" Tilly said.

Burnham nodded.

"Am I a victim seeking vengeance? On the Shenzhou, I was a first contact specialist. . ." Burnham said. "A officer who was unsure of command. Then I was sure of commanding a vessel . . . But now? Right this moment? No."

"Do captains have revenge agendas?" Tilly asked.

"Not usually," Burnham said.

"It makes sense," Tilly said. "I am not going to have any grudges when I become a captain."

Burnham had the briefest of smiles turned toward Tilly.

"I am sure you will not," Burnham said, then turned her attention away from the engineer.

Stamets, and Kowski entered the vessel. Kowski came over to the piloting chair.

"Remain seated," Kowski said. "This is going to be a bumpy ride. Doors closed, all people board, and we're going."

The shuttle lifted out of the shuttle bay then flew out of the Discovery. Burnham saw in the distance ahead that there was a replica of the Discovery except it looked different. There were things growing along the hulls. Mushrooms. Stamets seemed to be in awe as he observed them and babbled about it talking about the rate of growth. One half of the hull seemed to be popping out. Raised, even, that wasn't lightning bugs. Burnham stared at it in fascination. Tilly leaned to her side then situated herself into the chair getting herself comfortable moving her tricorder onto her lap.

* * *

"How long has this been happening?" Stamets asked.

"According to the distress call, around twenty four hours," Landry said. "you have one hour to find out what is going on this ship."

"One hour isn't enough," Stamets said.

"One hour is all you get, Lieutenant," Landry said. "We are going to destroy this vessel if it can't be saved."

Stamets looked over toward the window that showed the paneling that was broken in the shuttle bay.

"Well," Stamets said. "Looks like we are destroying life. Ephraim would love this."

Kowski opened the side door. Stamets was the first to exit in a rush with his medical tricorder. Burnham, Tilly, Kowski, and Landry came out. There were discarded equipment scattered about the scenery. Padds were left on the floor. There were a few shuttles left behind as though not everyone had escaped. The scenery was dark. They turned on their equipment. Light poured out of the device being held by Kowski. They came toward the familiar doors. Landry pried them open with a loud, high pitch metal screech. The group made their way down down the hall with Kowski to the side of the group. Stamets was looking around seeing the sight of small mushrooms growing. Landry stopped in her tracks.

"What are they feeding off?" Landry asked.

"I would say dead bodies and soil but growing on metal would take years of abandonment," Stamets asked. "Or someone be changing it."

"Are you implying that we may have a mushroom loving entity turning this ship into a corpse to grow off?" Burnham said.

"It sure beats a time dilation," Stamets said. "Straal didn't look a day older."

"A mushroom loving entity?" Landry asked.

Burnham and Stamets looked toward the first officer.

"It's more likely than you think," Stamets said.

"I once came across a entity obsessed with algae turning a cargo ship into a environment rich for it," Burnham said.

"That sounds beautiful," Tilly said. "being so in love with something that you want your personal collection of it? Good hobby."

"This hobby has shut down a starship and been afflicted to the crew," Landry said. "It's not a hobby. It's a threat. Let's go on." Landry resumed her trek. "We are going to the bridge and find out what happened. Officers logs should all be there to access."

Tilly and Burnham exchanged a glance as Stamets grimaced.

"I am going down to engineering," Stamets said.

"No, you are not," Burnham said, grabbing him by the shoulder. "It is not logical."

"Besides, we got two security officers, and us," Tilly added, as Kowski went past them. "On we go."

"No, seriously," Stamets said as he was towed after the two security officers. He dug his heels into the floor to no avail. "we have a member of Ephraim's species on this ship and no one knows where he is. I didn't see him in the shuttle bay."

"Maybe he left," Tilly suggested.

"He wouldn't leave by a escape pod," Stamets said. "he takes too much room."

"Perhaps he warped out," Burnham said.

"Warped out?" Stamets laughed. "Warped out. Ridiculous."

"If he can transport the ship then why not himself?" Burnham asked.

"Because . . ." Stamets stopped. "That is a good question."

"What was going on likely sent him running." the two looked over toward the woman. "That means he is back at his home planet or somewhere else other than here."

"Ephraim is not going to like this," Stamets said.

"No one likes war," Burnham remarked.

"You know, you can let me go," Stamets said.

"Not taking the risk," Tilly said. "You could pull a trick and go into engineering and could get killed by the scary entity."

"Don't be condescending," Stamets said. "That is my role."

"I am not," Tilly said. "It might be scary. Genuinely, purely scary."

"I bet it is not," Stamets said.

"Burnham, tell him that it is not logical to go to the belly of the beast to see a even bigger beast," Tilly said

"Given that we are on a simple mission to find out what is going on, I am inclined to say that engineering might be the best place to start," Burnham said. "Mushroom could be where it started."

"Might not be scary at all," Stamets said.

"But we have to follow orders," Burnham said. "Disobeying a direct order could either lead to court martial, reprimand on file, or being dressed down by the superior officer. Neither are pleasant experiences."

"Didn't Surak say not to let fear control you?" Stamets said.

"He did," Burnham said. "I am not afraid."

"Neither am I," Tilly said.

"Your decisions say otherwise," Stamets said. "we might be walking into a nest of corpses. The entity might have killed the bridge crew. The entity might be willing to talk with someone who shares his feelings about mushrooms. If you let me do all the talking, we might reach a understanding and _might_ get him out of the Glenn without needing to destroy it."

Burnham glared back at him.

"That is a lot of might, Lieutenant," Burnham asked.

"Yes, I know," Stamets said. "But are _you_ willing to take that chance, Commander?"

The camera turned toward Burnham.

* * *

"Gabe, how is your new second officer doing?" Cornwell asked.

Lorca was petting Merkin as he leaned into the chair.

"I know as much as you do," Lorca said. "this test mission is going great, by far, maybe, I can't be sure."

Cornwell sighed, slightly shaking her head.

"Georgiou has been in discussions regarding the Discovery's missions," Cornwell said.

"Give me the bad news," Lorca said.

"The further involvement of Ephraim's species," Cornwell said. "They want to put them on other classes."

"We're on shaky grounds as it is with his species," Lorca said. "I don't recommend it."

"We are losing this war," Cornwell said. "if you can turn this around as it is . . ."

"We will," Lorca said.

"Then it will be a miracle," Cornwell said. "Honey, this is too big of a miracle."

"We have the first officer who was part of the battle at the binary stars," Lorca said. "It's a miracle that she and the crew survived it."

"A very big miracle," Cornwell said.

"She is the embodiment of miracles and hope while clinging onto starfleet ideals," Lorca said. "Did you read her files?"

"I have," Cornwell said, on the computer screen.

"Georgiou was sure that she could help us win the war and I am trusting that mind," Lorca said. "Whatever happens down aboard the Glenn, I am certain that she will not disappoint us." Merkin cooed, easing his mind.

"She only transferred Burnham aboard your ship to make use of a soldier who should be part of it," Cornwell said.

"That I admit," Lorca said. "It would have been wasted potential leaving her alone."

"I want to believe that she will help in some way," Cornwell said. "Georgiou is certain the Shenzhou will play a hand in ending the war."

"A old exploration ship turned warship," Lorca said. "I admire her tenacity."

"Did you really send her off to the Glenn?" Cornwell asked.

"Yes," Lorca said.

"Gabe, honey, you just don't send a second officer to a experimental starship that has been evacuated," Cornwell said. "You lose the best officers that way." Lorca laughed, light heartedly at Cornwell's reply.

"Hey, we survived the Buran," Lorca said. "We can surely survive this."

" _If she comes back_ ," Cornwell reiterated with emphasis. "have her on a leash, desk bound, ship bound. Starfleet doesn't care. Keep her off Glenn cases."

"Orders heard, Kat," Lorca said, with a smile. "Now, what are the good news?"

"We found the USS Yeager," Cornwell said.

"Good!" Lorca said.

"Bad news is that it was empty," Cornwell said. His grin faded. "There were signs of struggle."

"Klingons don't take prisoners," Lorca said.

"Rogue Klingons did this," Cornwell said. "Evidence indicates it was done by Voq, son of none."

"We'll find them and bring them home," Lorca said.

"You better," Cornwell said. "That is one of your long-term missions."

"Mission accepted," Lorca said, continuing to pet Merkin.

"Wherever you are, out there, be careful," Cornwell added. "Cornwell out."

Lorca looked down toward the large, purring furball in his lap.

"Mommy misses you too, Merkin," Lorca said.


	6. Chances are taken

"Landry to Burnham, Landry to Burnham, Landry to Burnham!" Landry repeated into the golden communicator. She had a irritated sigh then changed her gears. "Landry to Lorca."

"Lorca here." Lorca said. Landry overheard Merkin's loud purring.

"We lost the charge." Landry said.

"Well, what a nice way of starting a mission," Lorca said. "Go find them."

"I would find them easier if the ship was on," Landry said. "I can't find them."

"Have you gone to the bridge?" Lorca asked.

"No," Landry said, "What do you think they are? Kids? Pretending to be captains?"

"No," Lorca said. "Explorers looking around. Check there. If the turbo lift still works."

"I believe it does still work, captain," Landry replied.

"Then go there, and if they are not there, check engineering," Lorca said. "Comfort places do wonders in frightening times."

"Aye," Landry said. "Landry out." Landry closed the communicator then turned toward Kowski. "Lead the way, Kowski."

* * *

The doors to Engineering opened before the group. Stamets was the first one out. They were still in the red EVA uniform. Burnham reached out stopping Tilly from going in further. There were tall mushrooms sprouting from the floors. There was a gray fog lingering in the large room. Burnham had a tight grip on the Ensign's shoulder. Stamets knelt down toward a body with a sad expression on his face. The skin seemed to be in tatters with warts spreading on the man's face with fallen hair around the head.

"It's Dacafio," Stamets said. He closed the man's terrified eyes. Stamets cupped his hands together lowering his head. "Being eaten, alive, by mushrooms."

Tilly's gaze looked up.

"Hello," Tilly said. "who's there?"

"Ssssh," came a man's voice.

"Did you just shush me?" Tilly said.

"Sssh," the man repeated.

"Stop shushing me," Tilly said.

"Ssssh!" the voice was insistent as the figure stood out.

It was a rogue Klingon with blue skin, bald head, and a enlarged forehead crest. He had a bat'leth in one hand. Burnham briefly froze in place. The attack on the Vulcan outpost came firing fast into her mind. The red light carried through the halls. Screaming coming from all around as her mother led her away by hand. The sight of a blue Klingon tearing down a security officer to his feet. Burnham returned to the present. The Klingon turned, slowly, in the direction that he was in originally. Tilly and Burnham stepped back in unison. Stamets lifted himself up. He looked over toward the control panels then toward the Klingon who was now facing the fog. Stamets ran down the stairs jumping over the last stair step and the rail with tricorder in hand. The doors closed on the two women. Stamets bolted out of the room holding tricorder in hand.

"Got all the files, let's get out of here!" Stamets said.

Burnham didn't move.

"Go back in there and speak to them." Burnham said.

"I didn't-" Burnham cut him off.

"Yes, you did." Burnham said.

"They ripped a Klingon in half!" Stamets said.

"They were defending themselves," Burnham said. "Go back in there and pretend you are speaking to someone on your level."

"My level is not speaking to them at all," Stamets said.

"Did they threaten you?" Burnham asked.

"No," Stamets said.

"Go back in there, Lieutenant," Burnham said.

"I am not going inside without back up," Stamets said.

Burnham raised a eyebrow, baffled.

"And you think a first contact specialist and a theoretical physics engineer is that kind of back up?" Burnham asked.

"We are not security officers," Tilly agreed. "You are out of luck."

"If I die because of you then I am coming back and haunting you," Stamets said.

"Until what?" Burnham asked. "Your purpose of haunting would be to terrorize and guilt me. You would only be stuck somewhere without interaction experiencing a eternal purgatory." Stamets shifted. "Now, you go back in there and be yourself."

"Being myself will get me killed," Stamets said.

"Whatever they are, their alarm will be lowered by someone talking to them about what they like," Burnham explained. "And become friendly toward you. Not everyone is out there to kill you during a war."

"Fine," Stamets said, then he pointed his two fingers at her then back at his eyes as he walked backwards into engineering.

The doors closed in front of him.

"Wow, telling off a astromycologist," Tilly said. "You seem like you enjoy it."

"I assure you, I do not," Burnham said. "I was only making sure he followed through bringing us here. Might as well try."

Tilly nodded then looked over toward the doorway.

Burnham's grip on the younger woman's shoulder loosened and relaxed.

Burnham let go of Tilly's shoulder linking her hands behind her back. Burnham's vision adjusted to the dark. A gentle fog rolled into the corridor. Tilly rubbed her wrists moving a bit unsteady. Burnham can see the faint shape of Tilly's figure against the dark. It was distinctive. A slightly taller figure than Burnham by a couple of inches. For living among the Vulcans for so long, Burnham can easily adapt quickly to the dark. Her first night on Vulcan was dark. The spacious building reminded her of the Vulcan outpost. Flashbacks that disturbed her during a lack of sleep. The wide, large halls were big enough for a singular crowd to flee. Burnham grounded herself to the now. They stood there for what seemed a eternity. A eternity that Burnham did not mind at all.

The doors opened and Stamets came out.

"Good news," Stamets said. "I got through to them."

"Bad news," Burnham said.

"They want the ship to turn it into a Mushroom collection," Stamets said.

"Have you told them we can't allow that?" Burnham asked.

"Yes, I have," Stamets said. "then they told me the captain let them in."

"Of his free will?" Burnham inquired.

"Of his free will," Stamets said.

"I am sure the logs will corroborate this," Burnham said.

"They entered by a decompose-able shuttle craft made of something you'll never guess," Stamets said.

"Mushrooms," Tilly and Burnham said.

"Apparently they sunk into the ship and began changing it from there," Stamets said. "Sounds like we can't study the mushrooms at all. Too much of a biohazard threat in a facility made of metal or glass."

"It can turn glass into mushrooms?" Burnham asked, in disbelief.

"Uh huh," Stamets said. "we have to destroy the ship to prevent any potential outbreak."

"Is that a astromycologist assessment or this the assessment of a terrified officer?" Burnham asked.

"Astromycologist," Stamets said. "we need good ships to use the spore drive. Just not this one."

"Were the officers alive when the change began?" Burnham asked. The question lingered between them.

"It started from engineering," Stamets said. "and by his account: they were." Burnham closed her eyes. "The captain tried to kill them. The captain drained oxygen from engineering and caused the warp drive to go into overload. There was a radiation leak but they fixed it. . . and got rid of it. They also fixed the oxygen after the engineers died. They took over the environmental controls then they took over the ship and drained life support from the bridge."

"And the dead bodies?" Tilly asked, as Burnham remained silent.

"By the engineer's positions, now that I have looked at the bodies carefully," Stamets said. "They tried to stop them from leaving."

"Oh. . ." Tilly said.

"They are not aware that this ship belongs to Starfleet," Burnham said, finally. "We may not need to destroy it at all but make them undo the transformation to the ship."

"I am not sure if they can do that, at all," Stamets said.

"A society that makes a mushroom shuttle craft is fully capable of cleaning up after their messes," Burnham said. She flipped out her communicator then opened it with a flip. "Burnham to Landry."

"Landry here," Landry said. "I don't like being ditched for the dust, Commander."

"We have found the source of the mushrooms," Burnham began. "We have a squatting alien attempting to take Starfleet property in engineering."

"On my way," Landry replied. "Landry out."

Burnham closed the communicator.

"Can we go now?" Stamets asked.

"We can't go in the dark," Tilly said. "there might be more."

"They came alone," Stamets said.

"You keep saying _they_ ," Burnham said, shifted toward Stamets.

"Calling them 'it', 'he', or 'she' would have been disrespectful," Stamets said. "They look very feminine."

"But. . ." Burnham said.

"They also look like a male," Stamets said. "A very creepy ant like being."

It sent a chill down Tilly's skin.


	7. A taken risk

Landry exited engineering.

"They are very mad," Landry said. Stamets tensed. "But I got through to them."

"Is that good or bad?" Tilly asked.

"Somewhere between because they plan to destroy the ship," Landry said.

"Oh shit!" Tilly took Kowski's lantern and fled.

"Follow the light!" Stamets said, running after her.

"Wait up!" Kowski shouted.

Landry ran after the two. Burnham looked over then walked into the room. She kept her terrified feelings at bay. The fog had cleared to reveal a very unique like individual with some feminine to them and masculine muscles. She took out the communicator. A test version being handed out among the Discovery crew. She stepped forward placing the communicator onto the table.

"I am first contact specialist Michael Burnham. . . ." she came closer toward the dark brown ant like being. They were seven feet tall compared to the five foot woman who admired them. "You are a fascinating specimen," Burnham added. The engineering station was glowing a shade of red. The communicator repeated after her. "What is your name?"

"Barkos," Barkos said.

"You are hereby declaring war against the federation by destroying a federation starship," Burnham said. "your people will not be welcomed for your hindrance in the war with the Klingons."

Barkos tilted their head.

"That Klingon?" Barkos asked.

"Klingons is plural," Burnham said. "That is a Klingon."

"Your words are . . different," Barkos said.

"Do you use plural to describe one?" Burnham inquired.

"One represents a entire species," Barkos said.

"There is more where he came from," Burnham said. "They are rogue and do not speak for the rest of their civilization." She looked down toward the bleeding red corpse.

"Qo'Nos," Barkos said. "hunters. Warriors. Poets. Honorable."

"That they are," Burnham said, looking up toward the tall individual as the red light died down on the consoles. Barkos wore armor that fit long their muscular body yet there was no helmet. They had gear attached to their belt. "The rogue Klingons will go to your people for alliances and together, they will get rid of a species that cultivates mushrooms. A environment that flourishes with mushrooms not found on most planets."

"There are exotic mushrooms on Earth?" Barkos asked.

"Indeed," Burnham said.

"They wouldn't do that," Barkos said.

"Klingons do not normally take prisoners," Burnham said. "There are those who do. It is not many."

"That is going too far destroying a planet," Barkos said.

"As is destroying property that is not yours," Burnham replied. "It would not be logical to destroy a collection."

"I don't like sharing my collection," Barkos said. "They touch it."

"There are several shuttle crafts aboard this vessel that can be used to become a living walk in museum," Burnham offered. "Collections are made to be observed. Which is why they make rules for these reasons. Are they not?"

"Yes," Barkos said. "You're right about that."

"After the war, Starfleet will look what it can do about your collection . . . Hopefully," Burnham explained. "possible transferring it to a more permanent series of shuttle crafts under your ownership."

"Everyone hates my collection," Barkos said. "What makes you think they will like it?"

"If one person doesn't like it then there are bound to be people who do," Burnham said. "Don't judge the entire universe over one persons taste." Burnham's communicator was rapidly beeping with insistence. She stepped forward unlinking a hand from behind her back. She came closer toward the ant like being. "I come in peace."

"Starfleet," Barkos said, extending one leg forward. "I accept your proposal."

"I do not speak for Starfleet," Burnham said. "That is the captain who does."

"Then who do you speak for?" Barkos said.

"I speak as part of a group who does not wish to die," Burnham said. "It is a proposal. It is a recommendation."

"Your recommendation is ideal," Barkos said, as the doors behind Burnham opened to reveal Kowski. "human."

And they gently shake hands as a smile appeared on Burnham's face.

"Commander, step away!" Kowski shouted.

Burnham turned toward the human man.

"Kowski," Burnham said. "He is not a threat."

"He killed, he turned, he-" Kowski's hand was trembling. "you didn't see the bridge. What he did."

"It is they," Barkos said.

Burnham let go of Barkos hand then slowly approached Kowski.

"Lower the phaser," Burnham said, as the beeping was insistent from the communicator. "Ensign."

She reached forward toward the man as the phaser was aimed above her shoulder.

The ensign pressed the trigger.

In a matter of seconds, the phaser flew over her hurling toward Barkos where it struck the compound eyes. Barkos screamed then chased after Kowski. Burnham turned toward the approaching ant being then stood in the way acting as a shield. Barkos tossed aside Burnham sending her crashing among a pile of mushrooms. Burnham regained consciousness. She looked over to see that Kowski laid beside her with open, lifeless eyes. She scooted herself up feeling a dulled in her legs. The fog was no longer there. Barkos's healed carbon seemed to be patched up with a large, gray piece of metal.

"He was afraid," Burnham said, shaking her head.

"He hurt me," Barkos said.

"Have my people tried contacting you?" Burnham asked.

"Repeatedly," Barkos said. "For the past hour."

"Past hour. . ." Burnham recoiled internally. "Why?"

"I will not talk to the organization that has twice tried to kill me," Barkos said.

"He does not represent Starfleet," Burnham said, helping herself up. "and nor do I." the communicator beeped. "Answer it. The captain is losing his patience," Barkos stared after the woman. "I would destroy this ship if I were him. This is a biological hazard and a lost cause to aid in the war."

"It's not a biological hazard!" Barkos said.

"Then tell that to him," Burnham said, calmly. "Reason with him."

"If it's not a biological hazard, why are you still in that suit?" Barkos asked.

"We don't know how the mushrooms are spreading," Burnham replied.

Barkos picked up the communicator with great care.

"This is acting captain of the USS Glenn," Barkos said, holding the communicator close to their mouth. "One of your officers are alive and if you listen to me rather than shoot first I will let them go unharmed."

"I need evidence that my officer is unharmed," Lorca's voice came over.

Barkos turned toward the human.

"I am fine, captain," Burnham said, calmly. "For the sake of the Glenn, listen to them."

"I am listening, what do you want?" Lorca asked.

"If you let me do this, then you don't need to give me anything, Captain," Barkos said. "No firing shots, not abrupt beaming, and no back stabbing."

"We don't backstab our allies," Lorca said.

"I have been backstabbed twice in the past twenty four hours," Barkos said. "Don't tempt me. Barkos out." Barkos crushed the communicator to Burnham's dismay then he turned toward her. "If I reverse it, you will be alone in quarantine from your people."

"I accepted that risk as soon as I came in," Burnham said. "The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the one."

"Who said that?" Barkos asked.

"Surak, one of Vulcan's great philosophers," Burnham said.

"He must have made a ideal image of what it means to be Vulcan," Barkos said.

"He did and it costed him everyone that he knew," Burnam said, regretfully. "Not everyone liked change."

"My people won't like this change," Barkos said.

"What change?" Burnham asked, curiously.

"Starfleet calling us squatters," Barkos said.

"Legally, that's what you are," Burnham said.

"My species call themselves the Degarons," Barkos said. "I hate for our peaceful reputation to be ruined by criminal activity. We don't like that."

"No one likes someone ruining their image," Burnham said, with the smallest of a comforting smile back at Barkos. She placed a hand onto the side of their long spikey shoulder that was partially covered by unusual armor. The thorny spikes were a shade of red.

"And whatever happens after this. . ." Barkos approached a station of mushrooms and panels and bulky machinery with knobs, buttons, and rotating small devices. "Don't fall asleep during the process. You will be permanently genetically altered."

Burnham raised an eyebrow.

"Just how long does it last?" Burnham inquired.

"Twenty-four hours," Barkos said.

"Long enough for your escape," Burnham said.

"Long enough to undo and preserve my collection," Barkos said, pressing several buttons on the station. "Pick a position. You will not be able to move in the first twenty-four hours," they turned their attention onto their screen. "A tedious task."

"You mean this is a gravitational and genetic change?" Burnham asked.

"Of course," Barkos said. "Some of my mushrooms can live in a environment that has a certain gravitational pull on them." he looked over toward the woman. "You need to find a position that will you not fall asleep in."

Burnham came over to the stairs then seated down.

"This is preferable," Burnham said.

"And you won't be able to move your eyes," Barkos said. "Have them closed. It is a very nasty process, actually, can blind a individual if they look at it for too long." Burnham closed her eyes as a high pitch noise echoed in her ears.

Burnham entered a heavy meditation trance as she heard Barkos walk out of engineering.

* * *

"This person has been inside the Glenn for longer than twenty-four hours, we have to quarantine her, and afterwards perform the medical tasks of removing what has been latched onto her," Soval informed the nurses. "Only if some of them have not been growing inside her skin."

The Vulcanian doctor observed the two nurses.

"What we faced earlier with the crew of the Glenn will seem like we were having a drill," Soval said. "Are we clear?"

"Yes, doctor," replied the nurses.

"Good," Soval turned toward the short Denobulan, her assistant. "Parchi, you don't need to be here."

"I am your assistant," Parchi said. "And you forgot your medical kit." Parchi held up the medical kit in one hand.

"That's because we have the equipment for it," Soval said.

"No, you just rushed your nurses out to the transporter room without getting a gurney," Parchi said. "I must remind you that you had a brain fart in a time of crisis." The gurney finally rolled in. Soval stared back at the shorter woman then rolled a eye.

"All right, fine," Soval said. "but brains do not fart."

". . . That's not what a brain fart is, doctor," Parchi said.

"Preparing to beam over one human," came one of the transport technicians.

"Look alive, nurses," Soval said.

A sitting golden figure appeared on the transporter padd then solidified. Burnham's body landed onto her side. The nurses came to the woman's side then helped her up. Soval unvelcrowed the uniform sliding it off with help from Parchi. The transporter technician watched with curious eyes. Her hands were covered in mushrooms. The helmet was slid off her head to reveal small mushrooms growing along her cheek. The uniform was handed over to a waiting biohazard team. Soval applied a gloved hand alongside her neck then nodded. One of the nurses carefully removed several small mushrooms into a small vile for further study then placed it into a container. Soval carefully placed her arms onto the gurney laid against her side.

Burnham was whisked away from the transporter room.

* * *

Burnham slid out of her meditation trance and her eyes opened to see Tilly waiting by her side slouched in a chair. Her mess of curly hair was laid on her shoulders. Some of them were against the side of her face while her eyes looked down toward her hands. She was in a dark blue shirt with sleeves that ended at the elbows. And a matching pair of jeans that seemed to be fitting along her figure. Tilly's skin was radiating before Burnham's eyes. She stood out like a bright colorful light against the gray large sick bay. On both sides of the health monitor was purple lighting.

"Do you not have other activities to do, ensign?" Burnham asked.

Tilly looked up with a smile.

"Bestie, you came back!" Tilly brought the woman into a hug.

Burnham raised a eyebrow.

"I never left," Burnham said. "What makes you say that?"

"Well, you were out for two days," Tilly said. "Most of the second day was spent getting the mushrooms out of . . . various. . um. . ." she let go of the woman then leaned back fumbling with her fingers. Burnham reached her hand out grabbing hold onto the fiddling hands. "parts of your body."

"I did not rest," Burnham said. "I was not altered in any way."

"Not like I was scared that you were stuck in a coma," Tilly said.

"It is okay to admit you have weakness," Burnham said. "Our weaknesses make us stronger. As do our feelings."

"Wow," Tilly said, sitting on the side of the biobed. "Are you a old soul or something because I hear wise words coming from you left and right."

Burnham had the slightest of a smile at Tilly.

"Being wise is not letting your feelings get in the way," Burnham said.

"I can listen to your wise advice all day long," Tilly said.

"Is that what you want?" Burnham asked.

"Yes," Tilly said. "Because you are the coolest, beyond the coolest, roommate I ever had."

Burnham felt the existing bond warm between them.

"I accept," Burnham said. "Is this a platonic or romantic request to hear my wise phrases everyday?"

"Both!" Tilly said. "I have a thing for soldiers."

Burnham had a warm look in her eyes toward Tilly.

"Do you accept the full package of being my company?" Burnham asked.

"Yes," Tilly said. "Every bit of it."

"If it doesn't work past platonic," Burnham said. "I will cease activities."

"Let's just see where our friendship goes, first," Till said. "alright?"

"I give it thirty days," Burnham said.

"Two months," Tilly said.

"Forty-three days," Burnham said.

"Less than a year," Tilly said.

"I take that challenge," Burnham said.

"This is going to be so fun learning from you," Tilly said, with a grin.

"I hope you do have fun," Burnham said.

"Commander Burnham," Soval said. "You will be discharged in a hour and thirty two minutes. But I do recommend that you take some medication for the next seven days," the doctor placed a container onto the table alongside Burnham. "It is for a issue that removing a few of the mushrooms had given you. Moving won't be pleasant because of it."

"I shall take it," Burnham said, then took the item.

"Afterwards," Soval said. "It won't bother you ever again." Burnham carefully read the medication's small text scrutinizing it. "The medication makes sure of it."

Burnham looked up.

"This is a prototype," Burnham saaid.

"It had to be made in short order," Soval said. "and retrieved. If it works, it'll pass its first trial."

"First trial," Tilly said, in horror.

"We never had anything like this, ensign," Soval said. "So this is a first for the medical community."

"What if it does not work?" Tilly asked.

"We will find a way to fix the issue," Soval said. "The container has the list of what to be alarmed should it back fire." the two women looked toward the container then back over toward the lighter Vulcan. "Which I am certain it will not."

"Doctor Soval, Yeoman Kram's got bad cramps," Hugh called. "Asking for you."

"Excuse me," Soval said, then walked away.

* * *

"Michael Burnham report to Captain Lorca's office."

Burnham had finished applying the medication to where it had been recommended on the item. She made herself comfortable in a familiar, Vulcan scented outfit. It put a dimmer on Burnham's plans to run with Tilly for the next seven days. It was uncomfortable to walk around with several sore parts of her lower body. She hated it, and now, there was more regret on going in than she had earlier. She came to the captain's cabin then slowly made her way into his office. Lorca sat on the edge of the desk petting along a light brown furball.

"At ease," she eased. "You could have spared yourself but instead you went in."

"We didn't have a chance of making it to the shuttle craft alive," Burnham said.

"You took a big risk to yourself," Lorca said, placing Merkin onto the edge of the table.

"I threatened the away team with my decision," Burnham said. "Request to be demoted to Lieutenant."

"I would. . . had you actually screwed up," Lorca said. "we lost one officer today. Just one."

"We could have lost no one because of me," Burnham said.

"And we would have lost one hell of a ship," Lorca said. "Not just that." he shook his head, folding his arms. "A fine first officer, a astromycologist, a engineer, a security officer, and a first contact specialist. I should add a reprimand to your file for disobeying a order."

"I wasn't ordered to leave or to go to engineering," Burnham said. "She said we had to go."

"Which is a order," Lorca said.

"She did not say, 'You are to report to the bridge'," Burnham said. "and yet, you haven't added it despite your argument."

Lorca relaxed, growing a smile, easing where he was before the woman. He poured a glass for himself then offered one to Burnham. Burnham shook her hand.

"Burnham, you rescued a federation starship," Lorca said. "Now given that we have a promise to keep after the war with a new species."

"The Degarons," Burnham said.

"You deserve a purple heart after the war," Lorca said.

"It is not me who deserves the purple heart," Burnham said. "there are more people more up for that."

"Feel like you are not worthy of something so great?" Lorca said. "Don't be. You are worthy."

"I am not worthy because I didn't act on direct orders from the first officer," Burnham said. "We had a breakthrough with Lieutenant Stamets. He is the one who made the bridge for me to speak with Barkos. He deserves the purple heart. That is my logic. If I am given it, I will give to him, as he deserves it more."

"That was honorable of you to say," Lorca said. "I am sure you know this was a test of your skills in a hostage situation." Burnham tilted her head with a raised eyebrow. "You passed with flying colors."

"Captain," Burnham said. "Why do that?"

"I wanted to be sure that Admiral Georgiou was right," Lorca said.

"Admiral Georgiou is not the kind to lie," Burnham said.

"My second officer wasn't ready for the war," Lorca said. "I was told he was perfect for the Discovery. I didn't read his file because I trusted their words when this war began," he placed Merkin into his lap. "He got himself killed last week claiming no one could kill him and that he was protected by 'plot armor'."

"He had lost his mind," Burnham said.

"Losing people and surviving, guilt tripping, slowly losing his sanity," Lorca said. "No one knew it until the last moment." his face grew dark. "I don't like a sham being handed over. You were different. I knew you were different as soon as I hear about your little experience at the Battle of the Binary Stars. Though, your glowing reviews have told me that I was right and your reputation was validated by this test." he came over to the desk.

"If you knew that I was different then why the test?" Burnham asked.

"To be sure," Lorca said, sitting down into the chair. "Always good to be sure you got the right deal." _Logical._ "When you do disobey a direct order you are going to given a reprimand on your file."

Burnham nodded.

"I understand," Burnham said. "I won't make his mistake."

"Which is?" Lorca asked.

"Not seeking help when it is needed," Burnham said.

"Part of me blames myself for not noticing," Lorca said. "Alas, that is life." he took a sip from the glass. "Nothing goes the way that we planned. You are dismissed. . ." Burnham turned away. "And if the situation arises that requires your demotion, I will carry it out."

"Nothing pleases me than serving with my crewmates as a officer," Burnham said, as she left.

And she sounded. . . pleased?


	8. Regret and war clouds

_"One last look at her. . "_

Lorca bolted up from bed falling to the floor, abruptly.

"Computer," Lorca said. "lights up by ten percent."

The room lightened up.

Lorca made his way over to the bathroom then turned the water on. He splashed water onto his face. He looked back at himself at the mirror. His blue eyes stared back at him. Lorca sighed, lowering his head. He came over into his office toward his main computer. It was a bulky item, a classic, that had been retrofitted and upgraded to adjust with the new technology aboard the Discovery.

"Computer, what time is it?" Lorca asked.

"Zero four hundred hours," the computer replied with a chirp.

Lorca came over to the bed where his purring Merkin laid.

"Computer, lower lights by ten percent." Lorca requested.

It was large and fat, a gift from Ephraim, yet it was so fluffy. Comforting, even. It was like a cat only without a nose, tongue, eyes, tail, or feet. And yet, he loved it with everything. It wasn't time to get up, not right now, nor apply the eye drops to his eyes. Ephraim had refused to name where he had gotten the tribble or what it was claiming Starfleet wasn't ready to know in a time of war. A name right off the bat, of the first thing he could think of, was a wig. Which is why Lorca failed to bring Merkin to sick bay for quarantine where it would stay for a month. His former second officer had done the scans, unofficially, and gave the clear. Ephraim claimed it was sterilized. Lorca gently stroked cooing Tribble placing it against his chest. Slowly, and graciously, he was lured back to sleep.

* * *

Cornwell entered Georgiou's office on a quiet morning. Georgiou was reading one of her books. Her desk was decorated with antiques such as a large piece of rock with a big hole in it making the rock seem like a doughnut with a solid, hard base. There was even a doll that Commodore Paris had given her was left on the corner. Georgiou looked up from the novel with a smile toward the older woman. She placed a bookmark into it placing the book onto the table. The blinds were put aside letting in long beams of light into the admirals office.

"Katrina, what brings you here?" Georgiou asked.

"To see how you were doing behind a desk when your former first officer is out in war," Cornwell replied.

"Not as different as being a starship captain," Georgiou said.

"It's different," Cornwell said. "war is unpredictable, war is heartbreaking, and dangerous."

"I have faith in Michael to come back," Georgiou said.

"I don't know how you can be optimistic about her," Cornwell said.

"Sometimes optimism is all we have in a time of war," Georgiou said. Then she added, "Michael seems to be happy over there. A bit unhappy with her current situation."

Cornwell had a light hearted laugh.

"So the rumors are true," Cornwell said. "she got a alien-mushroom Hemorrhoid."

"Sort of," Georgiou said. "I have been told it is working."

"Good to hear," Cornwell said, with a nod.

"I need some advice," Georgiou said. "The Enterprise wants to be part of the war."

"Chris," Katrina sighed, with a sigh. "He has gone to me, too."

"Going down to Vice Admiral?" Georgiou asked.

"Una called back," Cornwell said. "The Enterprise can't be part of it. She is a explorer not a a soldier."

"He wants to be part of the cavalary," Georgiou said.

"Terral has been drafting a reply to the captain," Cornwell said. "The others are feeling bad for him."

"Why should they?" Georgiou asked. "Terral enjoys turning down people."

"Not many admirals like to say no to a captain of the Enterprise," Cornwell said.

"Speaking of Admirals. . . I haven't seen Anderson lately," Georgiou said. "Where has he been?"

"The admirals and I tricked him to visiting Risa," Cornwell said. "He needs all the relaxation possible in this stressful time." she looked worriedly toward the aged admiral. "You haven't had some shore leave in six months."

"Shore leave is not required for a war council member," Georgiou said. "I will have leave when everyone can."

"Don't hold yourself up to those standards," Cornwell said.

"The Glenn and Discovery can have these kinds of shore leaves while the other ships in federation space can't," Georgiou said. "They can get to anywhere in a moment. Just in a snap."

"Limited snaps," Cornwell said. "Makes it harder from those Klingons finding out how we are doing it. The Discovery and the Glenn are not always going to report to Klingon attacks," the woman sighed. "We're lucky that the ones that do occurr happen near places where most federation vessels are only two to hours away."

Cornwell walked over coming to the back of Georgiou then placed her hands onto the aged admirals shoulders.

"You don't need to pamper me, Katrina," Georgiou said.

"Let me," Cornwell said. "I don't get to help a fellow admiral often, you know, being Earth bound."

A small chuckle came from Georgiou.

"You _asked_ to be promoted to Vice Admiral after getting back from The Battle of Fey-tow," Georgiou reminded, as Cornwell's fingers rolled down her shoulders. "you would be best helping being out there."

"I am a doctor, Pippa," Cornwell said.

"Not a soldier," Georgiou added, with a new found smile on her face. "helping others is where your heart was always in."

"Watching people die around me. . . " Cornwell said. Cornwell shuddered at the image of people who she could not help. The imagery came forth into her mind. A worst case scenario. Officers littering the hall, dying, covered in their blood. Halls briefly lit by red lights through the corridors. Power struggling to stay on throughout the decks. The hanging cables, burned stations, and dying groans heard in the distance. "I hope that the war doesn't come down to Earth."

Georgiou reached out then took hold onto Cornwell's hand.

"It won't," Georgiou said, looking up toward Cornwell. Georgiou gave a gentle squeeze. "I am sure of it."

Cornwell smiled back at Georgiou as the grip slowly loosened.

"At least let me take you to a spa," Cornwell said. "Since you refuse shore leave."

That earned a laugh from Georgiou.

"I will see how I can fit that in," Georgiou said. "I will try."

"Your assistant is going to make sure you not only try," Cornwell said. "That you do it."

"My own assistant working with a vice admiral?" Georgiou said. "I did not see that coming."

"No one sees their assistants working with others for the benefit of their employers," Cornwell said, as she continued the shoulder massage. "Not even admirals."


	9. A balance of perspectives

"We rescued a sole survivor from a escort vessel," Landry said, as she walked down the hall with Burnham. Medical officers in a group split up then walked around the two meeting up behind behind them. "Their vessel was heavily damaged on the trip, their colleagues are dead, and the vessel requires more a days worth of repairs."

"I understand," Burnham said. "Where does this bring me in?"

"This is a first contact situation," Landry said. "The captain might be light sensitive but he doesn't enjoy being in pitch black." Burnham raised a eyebrow.

"So they have bad photosensitive eyes than he?" Burnham asked.

"Not necessarily," Landry said. "They see better in the dark."

"That is quite. . . fascinating," Burnham remarked.

"You should be familiar to these species," Landry said.

"Just how should I be?" Burnham asked.

"Very," Landry said. "you were part of the observation group last year."

"I was part of many observation groups in my career about the Shenzhou," Burnham replied.

"You'll know which one as soon as you go in," Landry turned then came to a stop in front of the doors. "They refuse medical attention," she handed the woman a communicator. "and refuse talking to me or being on the bridge."

"I see what you need," Burnham said. "I will see what I can do." she looked down toward the communicator then back. "I have been meaning to ask . . . Is this a prototype for the upcoming model?"

"Everything aboard this ship is a prototype," Landry said. "Glitches don't win wars. I won't be surprised if they give the Discovery a major overhaul after the war." she gestured in toward the doors. "After you."

Burnham walked into the conference room. She placed the communicator onto the table after fiddling with it to automatically begin translating as soon as the survivor started speaking. Her eyes quickly adjusted to the darkness in the room. The individual was huddled in the corner of the room in a dark outfit that seemed rather homey than being a explorer in space. She sat down into the chair, waiting, for the other to begin speaking. The survivor's eyes turned toward the second officer. Burnham's eyes observed a humanoid like figure of the survivor. The survivor had large, furry ears. The survivor spoke, and then, the universal translator began working.

"Hello. . ." came a low pitched yet male like voice.

Burnham had a comforting, warm look in her eyes.

"Krikri, greetings," Burnham said, holding the ta'al up.

The Krikri shaking stood up and held up a furry hand that had three long fingers with a small pinkie finger.

"Who are you?" the krikri asked.

"I am Commander Burnham of the starship Discovery," Burnham said. "I come in peace."

The Krikri, weakly, dragged himself over to the chair across from Burnham then sat down into it.

"I was one of the test pilots making sure it flew," the Krikri's small, dark eyes tightly closed then opened. "Do you know how easy a Krikri can die during battle? When metal is falling, stations explode, and being tossed around. . ." He looked down toward the table. "Pinned down by a door and other wall paneling. Unable to move from the sudden blast. Being squeezed by the very thing that was said to protect you. Their screams being loud and scared. I couldn't help them. It was so bright. I couldn't see what was going on around me. But their screams. . ." the camera turned toward Burnham. The sounds of screams were in the background in Burnham's mind. The announcement over the comn to go down to safety that slowly faded to background noise. "The screams told me all."

"Do you have a name?" Burnham asked. The camera turned attention toward the krikri.

"Par'two," came the reply. "It meant helper. And I do not deserve that name."

"That's hard of you to say about yourself," Burnham said. "everyone deserves a name."

"A name is a gift given by your family. . . I welcome the name Krikri," Krikri said. "It is unfortunate that first contact be started this way. The first warp drive." he lowered his head down toward the table. "I wasn't supposed to be the one speaking with a alien."

"What is, is," Burnham said. "the Discovery is following your warp trail and we will return you home."

"What is there to return to?" Krikri asked, his dark marble eyes looking back at her.

"That you're not alone," Burnham said. "You came out to meet new life. You met one."

Krikri looked up.

"You look like a monkey without hair all over," Krikri said.

"You look like a bat," Burnham said.

"So we're are both aliens to each other," Krikri said.

"Indeed," Burnham said. She noticed a hand was still on his waist. "You need medical attention."

"I need a lot of things," Krikri said. "my crew."

"Your crew would want you to live," Burnham said. "and if they were in your shoes. . . they would wish they gave their own in exchange for you."

Krikri nodded then looked up toward the woman.

"Would they?" Krikri said.

"I know the first crew I became acquainted to would," Burnham said. "No matter the circumstance."

* * *

"Gollard, I am not a veterinarian," Culber said.

"Well, I am not the one who treated a Vulcan Sand Cat and returned it to Admiral Anderson, now am I?" Gollard said.

"That cat needed surgery," Culber argued. "Just because you wanted to operate on it doesn't mean you won't have another opportunity."

"Those cats are extremely rare. They rarely get sick and donated to the Starfleet academy," Gollard argued. "So you are doing the bat."

"I specialize in xenobiology. One in which I know where the organs are supposed to be," Culber said. "This is different."

"The cat says you must do it," Gollard said.

"I would do it had I know if anything is there that shouldn't be," Culber said.

"You're a doctor, Culber," Gollard said, with a little wave. "Have fun operating on him."

"How did you convince the CMO anyway?" Culber asked, bewildered.

"Charm!" Gollard said, as he exited the operating room.

In a orange flare of light reappeared on the operation table a resting bat like figure. Burnham had a hand on Krikri's shoulder. A nurse came into the room along with a rolling cart that had several medical tools laid on it. Burnham clenched the alien man's shoulder. Culber held up the small rounded tricorder that alarmingly beeped over Krikri's chest. He raised a eyebrow at the characteristics of the Krikri looking down toward the furry hands. He raised both eyebrows as he slid off the boots to see the feet were similar to the hands except smaller and not as long. Some of the long toes were flattened down as though there was no bone left inside of it to keep it up.

"I will be here when you wake up, Krikri," Burnham reassured the bat like man who's eyes were closed.

"Promise?" Krikri asked, his head turned in the direction of her voice.

"I shall," Burnham reiterated, as Culber was handed a hypospray.

Culber applied the hypospray to the side of Krikri's neck.

"Thank you," Krikri said, as his demeanor relaxed and his hand fell from the side of the biobed.

Burnham turned toward Culber to notice his eyes were lit as though he were smiling when he was not.

"Is there something amusing about this situation?" Burnham asked, then Culber raised his hand up.

"I am just happy that you're not the one on the operation table," Culber said. He lowered his hand. "I will call you when he does wake up."

Burnham nodded then made her way out of the operation room where the doors closed behind her.

* * *

Landry's request came through the line down in engineering. The request was simple. Make a device that allowed Krikri to walk around without needing the ship to be engulfed into darkness. Ensign Decker, a bright eyed young man, was working with Tilly to make the object. He was planning to transfer tracks into command. To follow his dad's footsteps was his greatest dream. To captain a starship, out there, exploring space and making new friends along the way. He was a excellent engineer. Burnham finally returned to her station a bit without the KriKri. Burnham looked over noticing the two. She returned to her task looking for the incorrect code that didn't belong.

From the shuttle bay, the unusual space craft was being repaired by the higher ranked engineers. The starship was being reverse engineered using what pieces were left to put back together acting as a puzzle. Piece by piece was put back together. Body by body was put into available stasis pods for burial under the supervision of Burnham, a brief departure from her duties, looking on stoically toward the fallen bat like creatures. The small ship's lighting was returned to darkness. The scene goes over to sick bay that had created prosthetic feet that then are applied to Krikri's stubs. It was designed with artificial hair capable of growing like hair would.

Culber documented his surgery. First contact and first surgery on a Krikri all in one day. He had to perform autopsy on them to get a better idea if his surgery went smoothly. Comparing and contrasting the after-math of the surgery with Krikri's condition eased his mind. Seeing his partner applying toothpaste to the tooth brush in the shared bathroom was what relaxed him. Eased him, domestically. It was his favorite activity of the day with Stamets. Stamets looked over, with the soft look at Culber. A smile went with it.

"How was your day?" Culber asked, coming to Stamets's side.

"Burnham is more comfortable in her body, again," Stamets said. "and I think her mushroom side-effect is gone," Culber looked over with a smile on his face listening to him. "Last time I noticed Ephraim was observing the see-in-the-light helmet that Decker and Tilly. It was nearly complete. It's nice for a change to be at warp. Away from the war, for now. . ." He looked over toward Culber. "How about you, my dear doctor?"

"I got to operate on the Krikri," Culber said. "first operation in Starfleet history."

"Way to go, Hugh!" Stamets bumped against Culber's shoulder.

Culber spat into the sink then leaned himself up.

"Eh, Gollard could have done better," Culber said. "He is trained to specialize on animals."

"You are the best doctor I know," Stamets said. "You did a good job."

"Did I?" Culber asked. Stamets put his cleaned toothbrush into the holder alongside Culber's toothbrush. "I could have made mistakes for all I know in the surgery."

"Hey," Stamets said, softly, placing a hand onto the side of Culber's face. "If you made any mistakes then you would have known _right away_ during that surgery," a big grew on Culber's face. "So you didn't make any mistakes far as I am concerned." Culber's free hand went to Stamet's side.

"I must be blessed to be in love with some one like you," Culber said.

"I am the devil's cigar that you stumbled upon at Alpha Centauri," Stamets said.

"You are not the rarest mushroom to come across," Culber said. "You are a devil stinkhorn and that's final."

Culber placed a kiss onto Stamet's lips. Stamet's other hand clasped onto the other side of Culber's face. Culber kept himself balanced with his free hand still on the edge then his hand came to Stamet's waist. The red PJ uniform was like silk. Comfortable to the touch with skin barely visible at the back of it. Stamets was the one who broke the kiss off backing off from Culber with heart like eyes back at him. Stamets took Culber by the hand leading him out of the bathroom.

* * *

Lorca stared at the resting Krikri in the darkly lit sick bay. The sick bay was barely occupied. Not many of the nurses were on duty. Lorca was in a short sleeved variation of his captain's shirt but it was green and velcrowed. There was a thick black line where the velcrow began and where it ended. His golden rank bronzed on the sleeves. He was leaned against the wall to the private recovery quarters that were booked for Krikri.

"Captain," Soval said, coming to Lorca's side. "You should not be up so late."

"I had to see who our potential ally is going to be," Lorca said. "Or what, for that matter."

"I don't think they are going to help us with the nasty war going out there," Soval said. "Logic says they vulnerable, new, and curious," Soval turned toward Lorca. "Have you seen that submarine out there?"

"They haven't worked out the kinks of paint," Lorca said.

"That vessel is. . ." Soval shook his head. "Only thirteen people can fit in there."

"It's a flying boat," Lorca said. "What do you expect?"

"A little more of a design to it," Soval said. "Otherwise a good sick bay for them. They didn't bring a doctor. Quite . . . ill equipped for space."

"They are a bold species," Lorca said.

"As are yours," Soval said. "His body is still adjusting for the aftermath of the surgery. I read the brain scans. A miracle that he didn't get brain trauma."

"We got lucky," Lorca said, his arms folded. "I don't like that."

"Captain," Soval said. "Is there something on your mind keeping you up?"

"Yes," Lorca said. "We are getting closer to his home planet. Four day ride. Away from the war. Honestly," he shrugged. "I should be happy."

"You are not because the Glenn is still being staffed and there could be vulnerable colonies," Soval said.

"Yes," Lorca said. "We have been at this for five months. I see hope that the next day we can end this war. Go back to being explorers. . ." he looked on sadly toward the Krikri. "And no more Klingons attacking innocents."

Soval nodded.

"I understand," Soval said.

Lorca turned toward Soval.

"Do Vulcans get drunk?" Lorca asked.

"That's a complicated question," Soval said.

"Not complicated when it comes to drinks," Lorca said.

"No," Soval said.

"I'll get drunk and you listen," Lorca said. Soval had a look of realization.

"Oh, so the usual then," Soval said. "I will bring the newly replaced alcohol," he started to turn but he stopped. "Have you talked to Admiral Cornwell regarding your concerns about being part of first contact missions recently?"

"She is asleep by now on Earth," Lorca reminded.

"Right," Soval said. "I will get the drinks." And Soval left the contemplating captain.


	10. A simple matter of acceptance

The first person Krikri saw was Burnham.

"Good morning, Krikri," Burnham greeted him.

"Did I lose anything?" Krikri asked.

"Your feet were amputated," Burnham said. "They were replaced by prosthetic."

"Prosthetic legs. . ." Krikri felt along his new found feet. His toes wiggled. He looked up with awe toward the woman.

"We have come a long way with prosthetic in Starfleet," Burnham said.

"This is the most magical thing I ever experienced," Krikri said. "I wish my co-workers were here to see this."

"They are here," Burnham said. "The captain would like to speak with you in his office."

"There is captains in space?" Krikri asked, sitting on the edge of the biobed.

"In space, anything is possible even space life," Burnham said. "Have you ever seen a space turtle?"

"No," Krikri said. "How large is it?"

"It has been recorded to be the size of your vessel," Burnham said.

"Take me to your leader," Krikri said.

Krikri landed to the floor. And that is when Burnham noticed that Krikri was four feet tall. His bat like fur was layered. The two piece patient outfit seemed rather small on his figure and frankly long. The pant legs had been rolled up, folded, and pinned. The helmet was laid on his head with two large holes that had his ears stick out. He didn't seem to notice that he was wearing a helmet at all. Burnham tilted her head raising a brow then lowered it.

"Let's go," Burnham said.

Burnham and Krikri exited the private medical quarters.

* * *

Merkin was purring loudly as Lorca was reading a padd. Landry was manning the bridge, as usual. He spent most of his time behind a desk rather than on the bridge. His complete failure at bringing his entire crew back, alive, from a Klingon ambush still lingered. In the past five months, he had only been on the bridge perhaps one hundred to two hundred times spending only four hours. He saw the ghosts of the officers who once served him at their stations. Figments of his imagination that were solid as he was. The ones that he had to leave behind. It should have been him staying behind and his crew evacuating. It wasn't fair. None of it was fair. His mind drifted off to Merkin. Merkin was a very comforting pet. A support pet, his former second officer called it, that needed regular vaccinations.

The doors to his quarters opened.

Perhaps, his survivors guilt could help him with to relate with the newcomer.

Lorca placed Merkin onto the table across from the bowl of fortune cookies then placed his communicator on to the center. He set it down into automatic translator mode with a few taps on the colorful screen. He looked up to see Burnham with her hands linked behind her back. A large pair of ears sticking up from over the desk. Lorca looked over to observe Krikri. He gestured over toward a chair at the corner. Burnham turned then walked over toward it. She slid behind Krikri to the point that he fell into it.

"The last time you were there, what kind of civilization are they?" Lorca asked.

"They were just getting out of the fossil fuel era," Burnham replied, over the shrieking tribble. She looked down toward the silent newcomer then back toward Lorca. "Krikri's judge how a leader can be trusted off how they eat a fruit."

"Fruit," Lorca said, raising his eyebrows.

Then Krikri started speaking, the translator started working immediately.

"Yes, captain," Krikri said. "Fruit." Krikri looked down toward the device.

"It is a universal translator," Burnham said. "automatically begins translating for those who do not speak Federation Standard."

"Everyone uses it?" Krikri said.

"It is a very handy feature," Burnham said. "there are people who learn languages and speak them."

"Even your language?" Krikri asked.

"It is not a easy language," Burnham said.

"Very confusing," Lorca said. "you can say we rob other languages and apply it to our own."

"So you assimilate them," Krikri said.

"In a way," Lorca said. "Commander Burnham, you are dismissed."

"Aye, captain," Burnham said.

Lorca seemingly relaxed, opening a drawer as she left. He slowly took out a square yellow, flat disk.

"What is that creature?" Krikri asked.

"Merkin," Lorca said.

"Merkin is very. . ." Krikri said, gently stroking the shrieking tribble.

"Fat," Lorca finished, warily.

"No," Krikri said, turning his head toward Lorca. "I was going to say. . . round and fluffy."

"Do you happen to have any connections to a species called Klingons or have some kind of forehead crests?" Lorca asked.

"Oh," Krikri felt along the helmet. "This? It's just a recessive characteristic of my species."

"How recessive?" Lorca asked, as Krikri lowered his hand toward his lap.

"A minority," Krikri said. "Most of us have flat foreheads. Theory goes back in the day when we were five feet tall, a species with forehead crests with pericings came from the sky and tried to conquer us. But they failed."

"Why?" Lorca asked.

"Because we thrive in the dark and silence. They don't," Krikri said. Lorca slid the shrieking tribble toward Krikri. "Anyway, there were survivors." Krikri gently stroked the tribble as the shrieking lowered and lowered into a familiar purr. "These survivors decided to stay and start a life on Krikrinessa," he looked up toward the human. "we had nasty spells in our history for that afterwards."

"That must have been a cruel time," Lorca said, earning a nod.

"They called people like me, hybrids," Krikri said. "Our crests are barely visible."

"How tall is your species?" Lorca asked.

"Three feet," Krikri said.

"So you're tall for your species," Lorca said.

"Yes," Krikri said. "I think that must be part of the Klingon side of my ancestry."

"And is there anything else?" Lorca asked.

"Yes. Recently, there has been calls to ally with them. We called them the Rusty Cresters. Before this first contact mission. . . There have been sabotage, heckling, protests, and nut cases," Krikri said. "We thought they weren't real. Can you imagine. . . Tall monkey like beings without a tail that had elaborate forehead crests with piercings and locks of hair _existing_? That is-" Krikri cut himself off with a fond laugh. "was ridiculous."

"And yet, you're taller than most," Lorca said.

"We thought it was part of our evolutionary trait," Krikri explained.

"Turns out you're wrong," Lorca said.

"I feel shame to be associated with them. Not by alliance but where my ancestors came from," Krikri looked down toward his lap in shame. "I told them not to add me to the mission."

"Look," Lorca said. "you're here now," as Merkin loudly purred. "and you are with people who accept you for who you are. Not for what you are."

Krikri looked up toward the captain.

"Do you accept yourself, captain?" Krikri asked.

Lorca came over to the replicator. He slid the device in. Afterwards, he opened the door taking out sliced watermelon. Lorca placed the fruit onto the center of the table with a long look at the Krikri.

"I did once," Lorca said, picking up the fork on the plate as he seated down. "long time ago." his eyes looked over toward the fruit then toward Krikri. "Eat some before Merkin hops out of your lap. They do tend to do that."

"Respectfully," Krikri said. "I decline."

* * *

Krikri's mind was very unique but it was bubbling with worry and concern, so much so that it was giving her a headache. Burnham made her way down the corridor. Without being near Krikri, the headache ceased to exist in a minute of minutes. She came into the mess hall. Culber and Parchi waved off toward Burnham, grinning from ear to ear. Burnham came to the replicator doors. She picked up one of the disks then slid it inside a small hole. The disk slid out then she put it back into the small cubby listed under Plomeek tea. She opened the door then gently picked up the plomeek tea. She joined the two medical officers.

"Did the Krikri walk normal?" Culber asked.

"He walked normal for a Krikri," Burnham said.

"How does a Krikri walk?" Parchi asked.

"A bit clumsy and wobbly," Burnham said. "otherwise, fine."

"Good job, Culber!" Parchi and Culber shared a loud high five. Burnham sipped from her glass with a flinch.

"Any complaints?" Culber asked.

"None," Burnham said.

"You're having a good day," Parchi said.

"A good day is helping people I can," Culber said. "If he has long term damage that I didn't find I am going to be not surprised."

"So, how are you liking being on a beta Crossfield, Commander Burnham?" Parchi asked.

"My station's flat screen needs to be cleaned," Burnham said. "My fingerprints make it difficult to look."

"In seven days you managed to completely cover your view screen," Parchi said. "That is impressive."

"Why?" Burnham asked.

"It takes two weeks for a newcomer to reach that," Culber said. "Me included."

"We got view screen cleaner back in the lab," Parchi said.

"Paul claims its for scientific probabilities but he is just hiding it," Culber said. "I have to use it three times a month. I can get you some."

"That would be appreciated, doctor," Burnham said.

"You can call me Culber," Culber said. "we are off duty."

"Isn't funny we have two doctors with last names that are almost identical if not for the beginning of their last names?" Parchi asked.

"No," Culber said.

"It is a amusing coincidence," Burnham said.

"-Parchi report to sick bay, Doctor Soval requires your assistance," came over the intercomn.

"See you later," Culber said, with a wave.

Parchi was out of the mess hall.

"You are the veterinarian?" Burnham said.

"No, that's Gollard," Culber said. "What was it like living among Vulcans? Is being the ward of a Ambassador have any pros or cons that most Starfleet officers would not have?" He chewed a piece of bread looking curiously at the woman. Burnham was caught off guard and did not how to reply. "Let's start with the first. I never met a human who grew up among Vulcans."


	11. Unsure when you can be certain

"Commander Burnham report to the holodeck,"

Burnham looked up from her station raising a eyebrow.

She was very familiar to the holodeck. It was in the process of being approved within Starfleet. There were many studies that had been sprung up about it. Countless man hours put into it making sure it was in working order. So far, there was a control console that was said to have features capable of controlling the holodeck. It was currently tested on Constitution classes. She picked up her padd and used it as her guide to lead into the holodeck. She left engineering with a slow pace making it to the holodeck. She came to a stop inside the room that was purple with the symbol of Starfleet on four sides of the room. Landry stood in the center with her hands linked behind her back. She turned in the direction of the xenoanthropologist.

"Arrived as ordered," Burnham said.

"The captain needs the Krikri to be occupied with familiar surroundings," Landry said.

"Already on his nerves?" Burnham asked.

"Krikri hasn't told the captain the frequency channel that his civilization uses," Landry said. "Two days of no information is very frustrating."

"Understood," Burnham said. "He wants him to relax and feel at home."

"For now," Landry said. "Afterwards, he is sending Krikri back to the ship and the Discovery is set to escort him."

"It will take ten minutes," Burnham said.

"I will inform the captain," Landry said. "Burnham. . . Kowski wasn't supposed to fly the shuttle over to the Glenn, it was Bryce, Kowski was a pilot in training. A new officer fresh out of the academy." Burnham listened intently to the first officer. "It's a shame we had to lose Kowski, but he was scared and I wouldn't have handled that well as you did." Burnham tilted her head, confused.

"I did not handle it at all," Burnham said. "I should have made him lower his hand then remove the phaser."

"You did your best," Landry said. "The security cameras showed that."

"What would you have done?" Burnham asked.

"Stun him," Landry replied.

Burnham nodded.

"Logical," Burnham said.

"I will leave you to it," Landry said. "The computer controls the holodeck."

Landry left Burnham. Burham rubbed her shoulder as though it ached. She stopped letting go of her shoulder. She turned away from the doors looking around the scenery. She took a sigh then breathed out. She walked to the center of the holodeck.

"Computer," Burnham said. "Prepare a forest simulation."

"Does not compute," came the computer's female voice.

"Computer," Burnham began. "activate holodeck." A light blue grid surrounded the dark woman. "Prepare a forest holoprogram." A forest appeared around her in a bright scenery. Burnham walked through the scenery. "Prepare a cave entrance across by five hundred feet. Computer, adjust size of leaves. Thicker and larger. The bottom floor of the forest became coated in darkness."

Burnham walked through the forest as little details came here and there. Lower branches appeared with dangling fruit that seemed to be odd. Patches of grass had large, green balls with lines. Plants appeared around the five hundred foot scenery. Burnham came to a stop once at the mouth of the cave. She walked into the cave. New streams of water came down the sides of the cave upon Burnham's command. She looked up seeing the ceiling glowing in the dark. The glow in the dark figures vanished and she resumed her trek.

"Computer, save holoprogram as Krikri environment," Burnham said.

* * *

Tilly landed onto her bed. She let loose her locks of hair discarding her scrunchy onto the table alongside the specifically adjusted bed. She was in her exercise outfit waiting for Burnham. A two piece black outfit with the word "Disco" on the front. She had her hands behind the back of her head looking up toward the beautiful purple. It was a nice color. A comforting, friendly color. She had been used to the light green halls of the academy. The academy's technology changed just as it did from the outside. Visible improvements seen from a historical perspective when comparing and contrasting how it aged in the past two hundred years.

Before she graduated, there was talk of repainting the academy to light gray over the course of the summer. The academy had this kind of paint argument. One time, during the early 2250's, it was yellow. Bright yellow paint staring back. There was a special break for that excusing cadets on a unexpected holiday where the halls were repainted. She leaned herself up onto the edge of the bed. She played with her fingers. The doors opened only to reveal it was Kram who came to retrieve the tray.

"Have you ever dated a Vulcan?" Tilly asked.

"Can't say I have," Kram said. His antennas turned toward the woman. "You are afraid."

"Yes," Tilly said. "Very afraid."

"It's alright to be afraid," Kram said. "You're dating the woman who saved the entire crew of the USS Shenzhou."

"Hey now!" Tilly said. "I am not dating her because she is a epic, totally awesome mentor figure who got to kick Klingon butt."

Kram gave her a strange look.

"Then why are you dating her?" Kram asked.

"Because I like her," Tilly said.

"Then you shouldn't be afraid," Kram said. "if she likes you too, then she accepts the package."

"What if I screw this up with her?" Tilly asked. "Swear her off dating humans in general? A bad sting on a highly emotional species."

Kram snorted, muttering "She is a human, Tilly."

Tilly gave a glare that could kill.

"What if I do the wrong thing that's considered no-no in her culture," she fiddled with her fingers lowering her eyes. "and then she doesn't want me afterwards because of the mistake? What if she requests to be reassigned with a new roommate?"

"Vulcans have a thing about touching," Kram said.

"I know, touch telepathics," Tilly said. "Everyone knows."

"How often has she been touching your hands?" Kram asked

"Well, there was this one time a few days ago where we were working together on a string of code-" Tilly stopped, as her eyes looked toward the left.

"Then you don't to be worrying if she is touching your hands," Kram said. "You are doing just fine."

Kram began to walk away as Tilly began to speak

"But you're not the one unsure if-" Tilly said. "You're doing this right with a Vulcan-Human."

She placed her hands onto her face lowering her head down. She rubbed the side of her face lifting her head up then sat down onto the bed. Tilly evaluated in her mind how she had been doing in the first seven days respecting Burnham's privacy, her personal bubble, and when to touch her on duty. So far, Burnham liked to be held when they were spooning. Burnham's right hand wandered over toward Tilly's slightly larger hand. Tilly opened her eyes to see the doors opened once more this time for Burnham to come out. Burnham took off her science blues that outlined her figure. She then slid off the black regulation shirt going over toward the small locker. She opened it up then slid off her pants.

"How was the end of your shift?" Tilly asked.

"I did not finish the last hour of my shift as Krikri's personal holoprogram required more effort than I initially planned." Burnham elaborated, in a calm manner, taking out a pair of sneakers from the box.

"Oh, I didn't notice you weren't there for the past hour," Tilly said.

Burnham neatly folded her uniform placing it into the locker then turned back toward Tilly raising her right eyebrow.

"I am not that silent, Sylvia," Burnham replied, then turned toward the locker. She took out her black exercise outfit.

"Yes, you are," Tilly said. "you fell asleep last night while were having small talk and I didn't notice until I had to look over to see whether or not you were still awake."

"I was tired," Burnham said, putting on her shoes while sitting on the edge of her bed.

"And the past seven days say you don't like small talk," Tilly said. "If you don't like small talk, then tell me."

Burnham slid on her black form fitting pants.

"I am not much of a social person off duty," Burnham said.

Tilly sighed, falling back onto the bed.

"Good," Tilly said. "We made a break through in our relationship."

Burnham turned toward Tilly while sliding down her top.

"How is that a break through?" Burnham asked, approaching the ensign.

"We can have pillow talk rather than small talk," Tilly said. "When you want it."

Burnham unlinked her hand from behind her back then let her two fingers gently trail down Tilly's knuckle. It was a warm yet gentle touch. Yet it felt like she was being teased. Tempted, actually, by her roommate. Given a taste of something that their relationship could unravel into over their companionship.

"I look forward to our further 'break throughs' together," Burnham said, then took Tilly's hand helping her up. "Now, on to our intimate exercise routine?"

"I was joking when I said that yesterday," Tilly said, as her cheeks grew a shade of pink.

"It is our 'thing' to do together," Burnham said. "Is it not?"

"It is," Tilly said. Then it occurred to Tilly. She picked up her scrunchy and stylized her hair so that it was a ponytail. "Let's do our thing!"

Tilly and Burnham jogged on out of their shared quarters.

* * *

Lorca came out of the holodeck two hours after Burnham's initial entrance. Landry was waiting beside the door with her arms folded looking toward the ceiling. She looked over toward the captain leaning herself off the wall. She linked her hand behind her back.

"Did he talk?" Landry asked.

"He did," Lorca said. "I have a navigator to inform where to go." he sighed. "After I get my uniform cleaned." he smoothed out the large yellow shirt on his waist that had stains seen around it and slid it down. "Make sure that Krikri gets a VIP room."

"Aye, captain," Landry said.

Lorca looked over then back.

"How many officers reserved a hour?" Lorc asked.

"One," Landry said.

Lorca raised his eyebrow

"Who was that?" Lorca asked.

"Junior grade Rhys," Landry said. "He understood. Rearranged his reservation for tomorrow."

"The things I do for Starfleet," Lorca said, rubbing the back of his neck. "Get him out in fifteen minutes."

Lorca walked past Landry.

Landry waited in front of the doors. The time ticked by, slowly. She took out her communicator to see what the standard time was. She slid it into her pocket then walked into the room. The doors closed behind her. She came down the path following the bread crumbs that Burnham had designed on her departure out of the cave. She strayed seeing the big ears standing out in the distance. There was a large bush that he sat next to on a fallen tree. She came to a stop alongside the resting Krikri. Krikri looked over toward the woman. His helmet laid on his lap with curious big eyes looking Landry over. She flipped out her communicator turning on the automatic universal translator.

"You look pretty in person," Krikri said.

"You reservation in the holodeck has just expired," Landry said. "You are to return to your quarters."

"What quarters?" Krikri asked. "My prison?"

"It's a place where you can sleep," Landry said.

"Back home, we sleep on the cieling," Krikri said.

"That's a small problem with that," Landry said. "you would make holes."

"No, we don't," Krikri said. "We cling onto them."

"Come along," Landry said, collecting a few of the fruit for Krikri from the wooden seat. "There is someone else waiting to use the holodeck."

Krikri nodded, jumping off.

"It was nice to be in a artificial environment," Krikri said. "You can save a species like this while relocating them."

"A entire species?" Landry asked, as they made their way toward the doors.

"It's possible," Krikri said.

"No, it's not," Landry said. "that would take a massive starship that had hundreds of decks, maybe," she paused for a moment then went on. "if not thousands or millions for that fact to transport a entire species without their knowledge."

"It is possible because you working with aliens like me in a time of war," Krikri replied. "A dream that became reality," his voice grew in optimism. "made aliens become friends with those different from them. It's like, in my culture," he looked down toward his unusual hands keeping his pace. "loving a animal and working with it every day and it wears clothes and it takes care of itself."

"You see that as a good thing," Landry said.

"Who wouldn't?" Krikri asked. "My species need a reality check. Mostly that we are not alone."

"I think you're make a good speaker with that optimism," Landry said.

"Me?" Krikri asked. "I am afraid not," he put the helmet on. "I am never going back into space after this."

"If you say so, Krikri," Landry said. "What were you before?"

"I was the planetary protector officer," Krikri said. "Making sure alien bacteria did not get contaminated nor that it got out into public, bacteria was safely secured, and making sure our bacteria didn't contaminate other worlds," Krikri nodded to himself. "It is a very important job."

"That sounds very important," Landry said.

"It is," Krikri agreed. "And I am quitting."


	12. Hate has no place in space

"Cochrane to Krikrinessa, this is Captain Duchatto Fr'rake," Fr'rake said. "we have been assigned to protect your planet for a month while Starfleet gets reinforcements secured for your planet."

The dark, large eyes stared back at Fr'rake.

Except they were business suits of the sorts with badges on their outfits. They a shade of pink. Bright pink with a unique shape on their chests that seemed to represent their society. They spoke in hushed tones together until they came to a resolve then turned back. One of them pressed a button. The screen returned to space.

"Did we forget to turn on the recently installed universal translator to their language?" Fr'rake asked.

"Captain, if it was then I haven't been told what language it is," Smart said. "It hasn't been added yet."

"Hasn't been added yet," Fr'rake said. "Damn!"

"Captain," Saru said. "I am keenly familiar to their language. And have spoken with one without a universal translator," Fr'rake raised a eyebrow while rubbing his chin. "I lost my universal translator during the time I was part of the observation group."

Fr'rake nodded.

"Hail," F'rake said.

The Krikri appeared on the screen.

"Cukcuk-rain co cleutieunus, cahu fah-rus orrtuce Saru," Saru said. "ve caue aiien cueogio co quptic voer qenteunus duchic c wonch. Vgi-ur cur-teech quot-sea veriencoe curedu voer quenteunus." _Cochrane to Krikrinessa, this is first officer Sary. We have been assigned to protect your planet for a month while Starfleet gets reinforcements secured for your planet._

"Cuckoo!" the screen turned to black.

"What did they say?" Fr'rake asked.

"Hail them back," Saru said.

"Belay that order," Fr'rake said.

"We are being targeted," came the navigators announcement.

"Captain, give me one minute," Saru said.

"Follow with the order, Lieutenant Smart," Fr'rake said.

"Hailing," Smart said.

"BO VEO VANT CO KIE?" Saru shouted. _YOU WANT TO DIE?_

The Krikri stopped.

"Po," the Krikri said. _No._

"Cur-teech zanue veo," Saru said, and the line went dead. _Starfleet thanks you_.

"Weapons are being lowered," came the announcement.

"I think I got a rough idea of what you said," Fr'rake said.

The group of Krikri reappeared on the wide, yet square view screen.

"Ve cu'fuju!" and then they were gone.

"Oh dear," Saru said.

"What. Did. They. Say?" Fr'rake asked, his patience being tested.

"They reject us," Saru said. "and they are going to fire at us until we get out of their solar system."

"This is a bad day," Fr'rake said. "Can't force our help upon them. Let's go. Warp factor one."

Saru looked over in horror as the ship turned away from the planet.

* * *

"Black alert!" came over the intercomn.

Burnham looked up as the engineering room glowed a shade of red.

"Prepare to move spores to console," Ephraim said.

Tilly came toward the console then took out a large case of them. Ephraim's nurse zipped down the zipper to the uniform. Ephraim slid into the machine and propped himself upright. The two drills slid into the casing inside the commander's holes. The ship shuddered in this jump. Burnham looked over toward Ephraim out of concern. Ephraim collapsed to the floor. Stamets came from his station coming to the man's side. He waved his tricorder over the Tardigrade like alien man.

"How many times this week have we been jumping while I was on shore leave?" Stamets asked.

"Thirty-three," Nurse Kleggan said.

"He needs the shore leave better than I do," Stamets said, then came over to the console. "Transporting two to sick bay," he looked up toward the two left on the floor. "Beaming out."

Stamets slid the two bars up on the console.

The two figures in the center of the room vanished in a orange seam of light.

"Commander Burnham report to the bridge," came out of the intercomn.

Tilly looked over in concern toward Burnham.

Burnham raised a puzzled eyebrow then lowered it. She left engineering in a rush speeding toward the nearest turbo lift. She entered the turbo lift then felt around for a leveler. Instead, her hand hit the flat wall with a smack. Burnham looked over to see there was no levelers around her. Burnham looked over toward the front of the turbolift to see a panel that had a flat screen. There were eighteen options in total for the on the screen that were highlighted in a light yellow. Her eyes grazed onto the view screen that had a number of the decks. She lightly tapped on deck one then linked her and behind her back. The turbo lift went up. She stepped back to the center of the turbo lift then clenched onto her wrist, patiently.

Burnham was considering what kind of logic would require her.

So far, all of them seemed unique and plausible on their own.

But the Shenzhou was not ready to go out, yet. There was still a weeks worth of construction left to be official released from space dock into the war. The construction so far on Starfleet vessels turned into war had been jarring. No long peaceful and elegant, only menacing and eager for a battle. Burnham sighed to herself. The Klingons were interested in a war. It felt as though the war would only end should a Starfleet captain decide to do the utmost crime. A war crime against the Klingons destroying their civilization. A entire genocide just to end it. Stripped of rank, life in prison, and career ruined. It was not the logical option for Burnham. The most logical option was to get a cloaking device and make them cut it out.

The doors opened before the woman to reveal a golden bridge with the familiar chirps of the equipment. The turbolift swished behind her. Lorca was tapping his fingers on the arm rest of the chair. Landry turned from alongside Lorca in the direction of Burnham. Landry came gestured the woman over then made her way over toward her tactical station. Burnham observed the bridge was larger than before. It was different. It was partially lit on the bridge just as it was all over the place. The navigational and piloting stations were still together on the bridge. A comforting sight. There was no rails around the center of the bridge with a brake in the center and sides. Burnham observed the view screen. The tune of the red alert was bright on the bridge with the red shade going over the gold. There was a large planet being under attack. Burnham did not hear the commands to Landry. There were more red shirts aboard the bridge rather than officers in blue and yellow combined.

"Burnham," Lorca's voice drew her out of the noiseless moment. "Explain to me why they refused help from the Cochrane."

Burnham raised a eyebrow then lowered it.

"Perhaps they were bothered by someone different from them," Burnham theorized. "and believed they can take care of themselves."

"Captain," Landry said, as she looked up. "They are targeting us with lasers."

"Lasers," Lorca said, turning toward his first officer. "And that's what the Cochrane ran away from?"

"It appears so," Landry replied as Burnham walked forward.

"We responded to a distress call," Lorca said. "and this is the thanks we get for responding. . . How petty." He waved his hand then put his hand against the side of his face. "Shields up," he seemed not to be surprised. "We have been lead into a trap."

"Two warp signatures detected, captain," Owosekun announced.

Burnham turned toward Lorca.

"Request to go down there and speak with the representatives of the planet at their command center?" Burnham asked, as the ship trembled.

"Forcefields are down!" came another announcement.

"Go," Lorca said. Burnham nodded then off she went. "Number One, go with her. Make sure they know who they are dealing with."

"Aye, captain," Landry said, leaving her station behind then joined Burnham into the turbolift.

Burnham inputted the number to the deck they were going. The doors closed on the two women. When the two women exited through the doors they went into the transporter room where two security officers were assembled putting on phaser belts. Burnham was handed one as Landry put hers on. The two women strapped on their phaser belts then boarded the transporter padd. Landry nodded in the direction of the transporter team. She nodded back at them once the two security officers were behind her. In a collective orange flash, the away team was gone.

* * *

The last Burnham recalled was the security officers covering her and Landry while hiding against a large rocky barrier as a shield. The base was a lot like a cave with technology applied to it. How the Krikri were able to apply technology through endless caves, mapping of space between it, and drilling holes had to been difficult when creating power outlits including the wiring. Burnham realized she was cuffed. Landry was across from her pressed against the wall with her ankles and wrists chained. Along her left side there was a stain that was dribbling down. It had slowed down since being inflicted. Burnham was shackled to the floor. Burnham attempted to get up only to find her side stinging. Felt as though the wound was very recent.

There was a force field across that as glowing a shade of blue. She noticed the inside of the cell was gray and had various paneling. There were even cots installed alongside some of the walls with chains connecting them to it. There was silence. The pain was nothing of a distraction. She briefly closed her eyes then reopened them. The trembling had ceased sometime before or after she had been taken here. Burnham touched the side of her head where there was a very bad sting. She lowered her hand to see there was blood on her fingers. Burnham looked down the cell to see that behind the barrier was utter darkness.

"Commander Landry," Burnham started. "Commander," she raised her voice. "Commander." Landry slowly gained consciousness.

"B-Burnham?" Landry, raising her head up. "I thought I lost you."

"I am in some pain," Burnham said. "I shall survive it."

"When I get my hands on them-" Landry said.

"Forgive them as they have never faced a monkey without a tail. They have no idea who they were dealing with," Burnham closed her eyes, feeling the wave of pain. "You look better than I do."

"Well, I am not the one who chased after a little Krikri to find out what was going on," Landry said. "You said it had to be a diplomats child."

"Logically," Burnham said, her eyes flinching.

"You were hit on the head," Landry observed.

"Apparently," Burnham said. "And you were shot."

"Hit in close range. . ." Landry said. "What is the last you remember?"

"Not much after being in a group," Burnham said. "You?"

"Defending myself with Lieutenant Octavius," Landry said.

"So it happened after my capture," Burnham said.

"They gave you a concussion," Landry said.

"They were afraid," Burnham said. "I can excuse that."

"Burnham, you are the least frightening woman I met," Landry said.

"Really, Commander?" Burnham asked, looking toward her.

"Really," Landry said. "You are predictable and a pacifist," Burnham painfully nodded in agreement. "That should have been me going after them rather than you."

"You would not be happy being unable to move," Burnham said. "Make the wound bleed out even more." she looked over toward the first officer. "How did the Krikri get you?"

"I was punched out," Landry said. "Ran out of ammo."

"And the security officers?" Burnham asked.

"The one I had on me died making sure we got to the tunnel. . . Now it makes sense why they had a stunner on them," Burnham sighed. "It wasn't your fault that Adrian died."

"It is when I could have followed you," Burnham said.

"Normally following the first officer is the right thing," Landry said. "But during a time of war or exploring deep space, more often than not it is a good thing."

"Did I disobey a order," Burnham said, without asking, or stating, but merely as a reminder.

"You carried out my order as you were leaving," Landry said. "To find out why they were shooting at us."

"I failed that," Burnham said. "Perhaps I thought it was Krikri."

"Maybe you did," Landry said. "hope does that to people."

Landry looked over toward her hands then wiggled her hands in the large shackles. She slid her hand out and then the other. Landry slid down to the floor. She ripped off her long sleeve. Landry ripped off the lower half of the yellow uniform then she ripped off another sleeve to her clean uniform and took out a flask from her side pocket written in bold text as federation water. Landry dripped water on the sleeves then tied the sleeves around the her waist, tightly. Landry knotted the sleeves with a final pull. Landry winced. Burnham was feeling around her pockets for the communicator. Apparently she didn't have it on her. It seemed logical that the Krikri took it from her.

"We're getting out of here," Landry said. "Burnham, I need you to do one of your straying away reliable help."

"Straying away. . ." Burnham said. "You said I obeyed a order."

"The last three away missions you've done it and ended up helping us solve a problem," Landry said. "You haven't been demoted because it has been helpful. Very helpful." Burnham stood up to her feet.

"I will see what I can do," Burnham said. "I am unsure, however, how I can do that when we are not stuck inside a cell."

Landry lifted herself up to her feet then walked over toward a large bulky panel. She ripped it open to expose the wiring. Burnham came to the woman's side then raised a eyebrow at it. They looked toward the inside of the paneling. Landry twisted a cable then pierced into it using her fingernails. She made a fine slit. Burnham proceded to do the same matching what the first officer was doing. They twisted the wires together then steppe back as electricity cakcled from it. The forcefield fell and then it became pitch black within the room. Burnham grabbed onto the woman's wrist and guided her out of the cell. She let go as soon as they were in the corridor.

"How do we split up?" Landry asked.

"Humming, Commander," Burnham said.

"Good choice," Landry said. "We will stop humming as soon as we find that fork in the path."

Burnham hummed along with Landry going in the lead with no distinctive melody at all. Burnham's vision was quite fine in the dark. Landry's eyes were making faint shapes here and there among the scenery. The sounds of Krikri walking down the halls was a evident matter. Burnham's humming stopped as she went into the opposite hall. Landry continued on her path. The facility trembled from side to side. A loud crashing sound came from above. What was going above was likely worse than what they were dealing with. The Discovery was in battle against the Klingons over Krikrinessa. A series of figures appeared in the first officer's way. A few of them were slightly taller than the rest. Landry slowly raised her hands up in the air. From behind them, Burnham appeared. She crashed the Krikri to the floor with a hard smack like a cannonball had been fired. Landry pressed herself against the side. Burnham got up to her feet.

"Reliable," Burnham said. "I understand. I will cut out the straying act and only stray when ordered."

"I did not mean it that way," Landry said.

"Should we go down on a away mission and I leave you alone without back up, you could die from it," Burnham reminded.

"I trust you to cover my back when everyone thinks you left," Landry said. "You didn't do this back on the Shenzhou?"

"I was first officer and allowed to stray," Burnham said. "That is different."

Burnham picked up a padd.

"Still got some command training in your head," Landry said. "I would find it hard to drop that."

The screen was pitch black but the color on it was faint.

"I have found the location where communications between ships can be launched," Burnham said. "It is five miles away."

"Five miles," Landry said. "Let's get on it."

"We need to talk to their representatives about this," Burnham said. "Starfleet will need answers."

"The answers are that they are xenophobic," Landry said. "They are not completely ready to join the federation."

"You have made the point," Burnham said, with a nod. "we will have to reach the surface afterwards in order to be properly beamed up."

"I feel like that would be easier than finding those representatives," Landry said. "Lead the way, Number One."

Burnham started to turn but returned her gaze onto Landry that was more of a glare. Burnham turned away and acted as the lead as the women walked over the unconscious bodies.

* * *

"Krikri central command is hailing us, captain," Richter said.

"On screen," Lorca said.

On the screen appeared Burnham, Landry, and a oddly dressed Krikri. Burnham wore a dark outfit that fitted her form. She wore a strange hat that seemed quite unusual on her. It was less aesthetic pleasing than the one Landry was in that consisted of a red jacket, white shirt, and black pants. There were rips obvious in the white shirt that seemed to have a boob window. They had bruises alongside their faces as though they had been in a bad fight.

"This is the unified leader of the Krikri species," Landry said. "He has just explained what has been going on."

"Lay it on me," Lorca said.

"They are xenophobic as hell," Landry said. "And they are not ready for space."

"What about Krikri?" Lorca asked.

"He is part of a minority," Landry said.

"We have discovered that this 'unified leader' had the votes rigged for him. Bad-mouthed Starfleet and spread fake news regarding the interests of it." Burnham elaborated. "As soon as we get this information spread through the people, the long term damage will take roughly several generations to be undone. It will take time for them to warm up to Starfleet and to life outside."

"Alright," Lorca said. "can't change a entire species in one night."

"Aye," Landry said. "first contact between two governments must be held off."

"So it must be quarantined for now," Lorca said. "Understood. . . You have been down there for at least two days, missing out plenty of Klingon action, and it seems you didn't miss out on it at all." Lorca smiled, leaning into the chair. "I expect you back in less than a hour in the transporter room."

"No arguments there," Landry said.

"And who is that Krikri?" Lorca said.

"Oh, President Cu'dgu," Landry said, then she added with a smile. "Former president."

"I expect your reports later today, Commanders," Lorca said. "Lorca out."

Landry and Burnham exchanged pleased looks with each other then a nod. Burnham expected a hug with Tilly after being discharged from sick bay. And Landry, as usual, expected a well deserved hot bath in her bathroom for the very risky mission. It had gone alright. It had gone alright asides from the losses. The two women looked down toward the president.

* * *

Another week passed and Saru found himself being reassigned to the Shenzhou. The ship across from the Cochrane appeared to be battle ready. It didn't look like that old Walker Class from seven months ago. It looked meaner and not as friendly. The purple paint job had turned from visible friendly color to dark purple. It looked more like black than anything.

"Mr Saru," Fr'rake said, as he entered the purple transporter room. "I would like a word with you."

Saru tilted his head.

"Yes, captain?" Saru said.

"You tried to ease the situation between the ship and Krikri," Fr'rake said. "bit unusual method."

"A method that worked," Saru said. "Briefly. I will not do that again."

"Look, Saru," Fr'rake said. "being in command you take risks. It's a risky profession." Saru nodded.

"I understand," Saru said.

"You will make a great captain one day," Fr'rakE said. "I hope I live long enough to see that."

"Your second officer will make sure of that as your number one," Saru said. "The chances are high that we may."

"Good luck, Mr Saru," Fr'rake said.

"Good luck on your side of the war, captain," Saru said, then he went aboard the transporter padd and turned toward the captain.

"Energize," Fr'rake said.

In a orange light with melody, Saru was transported from vessel to vessel. The bright light cleared to reveal a different transporter room. In front of the transporter console stood his former first captain. He noticed that she was in a different variation of the admiral's uniform that was strikingly similar to a starfleet officer and wasn't a sparkly. Instead of being gray, it was yellow. On the right side of her chest was the admiral insignia. Her hair let loose on her shoulders instead of being braided. She wore a smile that seemed well worn and hopeful. Saru relaxed in the familiar transporter room.

"Ready to get to work, Number One?" Georgiou asked.

"Ready as always, Admiral," Saru said, taking his duffle bag off his shoulder.


	13. Try to be careful

"I will be fine, Commander," Lorca said.

"Rogue Klingons might hijack your shuttle craft, _Captain_ ," Landry said. "We should take you to the meeting point."

"I like my ship away from the secret meeting," Lorca said. "Look. . ." he stepped back waving his hands. "should I get captured, I will get to know who orchestrated the war." He turned toward the doors then walked into it. He poked his head out of the shuttle craft. "You're the acting captain of this ship so make sure you don't get my ship destroyed, alright?"

"Aye," Landry said. "I will."

"Lieutenant Higgens, prepare to disembark shuttle bay," Lorca said, closing the door behind him with a press of a button.

Landry watched the shuttle craft depart from shuttle bay and the camera turned back toward her

Landry sighed, watching the shuttle craft vanish from her line of vision.

"Be careful," Landry said.

* * *

"We. . . come. . . in . . peace-zzzzz-roger-come-peace-"

Bryce checked the date it had been sent.

Over a year ago and the audio quality had decreased since transmission.

A part of him wondered if they managed to get the message, whoever they were, out there. So he decided to raise the audio keeping it going in the channels. He carried it out. In his career in Starfleet, as a communications officer, it was deemed bad luck to let voices go unheard. A tradition kept since the beginning of the 20th century, maybe even longer as he wasn't quite sure about it. He had the communicator plug in his ear. A random message popped up.

"Help us-HELP-USS Ribbon-under attack-please-reinforcements-Romulans!" the call was sizzling. "Shields are at 78%. We are in need of dire help. Starfleet, please, respond!"

And then there was silence as the quality had gone murky.

Bryce pulled up the file regarding the USS Ribbon: ship remains unaccounted for.

Bryce fiddled with the buttons on the screen once more helping the signal gain strength. Maybe, must maybe, one day their calls for help will be remembered. The file indicated Starfleet had no idea what happened that lead to the Ribbon's disappearance. The distress call seemed to have been sent over a hundred years ago. It was impressive how the quality still had the central message being clear. The voice of the terrified communication's officer was ringing loud and clear, sounding desperate. Ritcher felt as though he could be in the communications officers shoes anytime soon in this war should the Klingons find out about their method of getting there to a ambush or attack. And then he continued listening for any ghost audios.

* * *

It was a ordinary day for Burnham serving in engineering.

Her shift was to end in four hours.

A time table that she had grown accustomed to.

Because afterwards she would have lunch with Tilly, then have a lazy afternoon together spooning on the not-very-large-bed or have a different 'woman' bonding activity. Little by little, day by day, their friendship was growing. The bond between them grew stronger and warmer. The only request Burnham had was that she would not lose Tilly so soon during the war. Clenching Tilly's hands eased her concerns about those thoughts. She had her now rather than later. Tilly was beside Burnham looking through the code. Her eyes had become trained finding for the incorrect strands and picking them out. Burnham did not pay attention to what was going on around her.

Until, she heard a small voice from her console. Burnham ignored it. It was a thing of her imagination. That had to be it. But why? She had been through a months worth of war. A months worth of engineering cackling during a battle, smoke carried through the room, and engineering tilting to the left knocking the officers down. Injured officers was expected in the confined area. The section where the lithium crystals would be located was moved to another location of the cut-in-half room right into the corner. The familiar bulky shape was in the back of the room with a large space that had stairs walking up towards it.

"Hello," came the voice again.

Odd, it sounded close.

"Hello," it came again.

Burnham turned her attention off the screen once highlighting a section.

A five inch tall human like figure stood on the console with clasped hands.

"We come in peace," came the squeaky voice.

Burnham reached out grabbing Tilly's arm then yanked her down to her knees.

"What's up, buttcup-" Tilly said, then her eyes boggled. "A borrower!"

"Greetings," Burnham said, with the ta'al. "How did you get here?"

"We flew right in to shuttle bay. I am Captain Lurecca," Lurecca said. "Are you the leader of this ship?"

"Second officer," Burnham said.

"Ah, so where are the captain?" Lurecca asked.

"Likely in his quarters," Burnham said. "the first officer would be more logical to approach."

"Where are they?" Lurecca asked.

"On the bridge," Burnham replied. "She can make a special exception this morning."

"I accept your proposal," Lurecca said. "I propose we have this meeting in the conference room."

"That is a reasonable place to talk with a giant," Tilly said. "sure you don't need some of your own security for that?"

"We do not need weapons when our death would weigh heavily on your conscience," Lurecca said. "We are not afraid."

"Quite a sound argument," Burnham said.

"Lieutenant Stamets!" Tilly called, earning the Astromycologist's attention. "we have a borrower."

"A what?" Stmets asked, handing the padd off to a engineer technician.

"What she means to say is that we have a visitor," Burnham replied.

"Look," Tilly said, gesturing down toward the small captain.

"First of all," Stamets said. "what are you borrowing?"

"Uhh, nothing," Tilly said, as Lurecca leaped onto the side of his arm then began to climb.

"I don't see a visitor so there is nothing to discuss," Stamets said, as Lurecca made it to his shouder where she stood with her hands linked behind her back.

Tilly and Burnham exchanged a glance together.

"Lieutenant," Burnham said, as he turned his back toward them. "You might want to look on your shoulder."

"Why would I want to look on my shoulder?" Stamets asked, walking down the stairs,

"You have a captain on your shoulders," Tilly said.

"Just because Commander Ephraim left me in charge of engineering while he is on shore leave doesn't mean you can tell me I am captain material," Stamets said. "because one, I am not interested in command. Two, mushrooms," he shook his index finger. "Three, I like being a astromycologist and nothing is going to change that."

"Oh, you like mushrooms?" Lurecca asked.

"Yes, yes, I do," Stamets said.

"Mushrooms are gigantic on our planet," Lurecca said.

Stamets looked over then began to fall back and Lurecca leaped across from him landing to the floor. Stamets landed with a thud onto the floor.

* * *

Deep space station K-7 rested in space containing several officers from various ships. The Shenzhou, Constantine, and Shran were docked with the starbase. The scene dived down down into the starbase while the admirals were in discussion. Lorca was sitting in the middle of the table. Along side him sat O'May, Terral, Cornwell, and Georgiou at a rounded table. The lights were dimmed in the room. It seemed dramatic and tense as Lorca was tapping his fingers on the table.

"I know there is bad news," Lorca said. "Don't sugar coat it with me," then he added. "admirals."

"Frankly, the Kacjbo's are not willing to spare two more their kind for the war," Terral said. "Ephraim has been exhausted. They claim that he needs a break from all the jumping that your ship has been doing."

"I didn't want to make him jump thirty-five times in two weeks," Lorca said, then gave the slightest of smiles. "The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few." a icy glare was returned in the direction of the captain from the admiral.

"Has your crew been given a shore leave recently?" Cornwell asked.

"They had shore leave a month ago, as you asked," Lorca said.

"Except for Burnham," Georgiou said.

"Yes," Lorca said. "I tried as I did with your recommended helmsmen. It didn't work."

"The next time there is shore leave then you must make her take it," Georgiou said. "That is a order."

"I will see what I can," Lorca said. "So, how long of a break is Ephraim going to be on?"

"A month," Cornwell said.

"A month is going to be bad news for the war," Lorca said. "the Klingons are going to win."

"For now," Terral said. "Logic dictates they will be arrogant and above reason after a month of success. They will not see the return of the Discovery so abruptly."

"Which what brings us to the Glenn," Georgiou said. "Captain O'May, your chief of spores will be introduced in the same time that Captain Lorca gets Ephraim back. Until then, you must use dilithium crystals."

"Understood," O'May said.

"Lorca," Georgiou said. "You have a very classified mission to carry out."

Lorca raised a eyebrow then grew a smile.

"Now, that is more like it," Lorca said, as his padd dinged. He picked it up then skimmed it, he looked with a questionable look on his face and wary. He leaned into the chair. His pleased demeanor changed. "You want me to do that?"

"Tables turn only so often, Captain," Georgiou said. "Fortune favors the bold."

"Will you do it?" Terral asked.

"Why me if O'May is not doing it?" Lorca asked. "His ship has a experimental warp drive that goes to six."

"Because I am not willing to risk my life for that, Lorca," O'May said. "there is so much I can only risk for my ship in war."

"We will overlook whatever you do, this once, to get the mission carried out," Georgiou said. "But if you make some moves that would not benefit Starfleet during this mission then you will not have your ship."

"Don't make you regret it," Lorca said, with a nod. "Got it."


	14. Good and bad encounters

The shuttle dropped out of warp coming to a standstill. Lorca was reading a padd while rubbing his chin. The sound of the shuttle crafts engine was comforting to his ears. The vastness of space offering beauty and riches to those who went over the next horizon. A temptation to go further into space with just a small starship. The soft, mysterious colors out in space made him feel relaxed. Safe, even, inside a shuttle craft.

"Klingon warp signature has dropped into space," Higgens announced.

Lorca opened the phaser compartment then took out a phaser as did Higgens. Higgens activated the distress call on the console. Higgens came to the captain's side at the back of the shuttle craft. Lorca and Higgens shared a tense look.

"Prepare to fire on my count," Lorca said.

The two men stood in the back with their fingers ready to press the trigger.

"Captain," Higgens said. "I never faced a Klingon in the flesh."

Lorca looked over toward Higgens.

"Rogue Klingons are not worth being scared of," Lorca said. "The actual Klingons, now, they are worth being afraid of."

"Aye," Higgens said.

The side door was forcibly opened to the shuttle. Klingons poured into the room. Lorca fired in the direction of the Klingons. Lorca lowered his phaser pressing the trigger blasting down a Klingon to the floor. The Klingons kept marching toward them. Two of the Klingons fell down to the floor in three seconds. Two large circular blasts appeared in the center of Higgens's chest side by side. Higgens fell over landing between the two chairs. A bald Klingon fired back sending back a defensive shot that landed into the captain's shoulder. Lorca collapsed to his knees dropping the phaser feeling the large, rounded fresh scar on his shoulder. He was surrounded by Klingons, two of whom lifted him up by the arms and lead him out of the shuttle. The doors closed behind the last Klingon leaving behind the dying pilot. Lorca was shoved into a small cramped space.

"Using more of the Romulan tech, I see?" Lorca said.

"Shut up!" the shortest Klingon demanded, aiming the disruptor at Lorca's forehead.

"Go ahead," Lorca said. "See where that gets you."

The short Klingon snarled then smacked the disruptor against Lorca's head sending him unconscious to the floor.

* * *

"Welcome to my office, Captain Lurecca," Landry said.

Lurecca looked around the nicely decorated office that had objects such as a bat'leth, a lirpa embedded into a pot in the corner of the room, a painting of two lions engaged in fight, there were two daggers seated side by side above the first officer's head, and sculptures of knights decorating her room. The federation flag was set to the corner of her office. Lurecca was set on the table observing the bright room. She looked over the edge to see a strange collection of rifles that were gigantic to her in a cabinet with energized fields. There was a small console alongside the doors.

"Your room is full of weapons," Lurecca said.

"My office is not usually like this," Landry said. "It's a reminder of what I am in."

"What is it like, normally?" Lurecca asked.

"Sculptures," Landry said. "curtains, and replicas of animals."

"So you're a lover of romance," Lurecca said.

"Guilty as charged," Landry said, with a nod.

Lurecca walked around the flat desk with hands linked behind her back.

"Your junior grades have been giving me a tour in what they could," Lurecca said. "they must be jealous that I can get where they can't," a smile grew on the face of the first officer. "Or do you call them Lieutenants rather than junior grades?"

"We call them Lieutenants," Landry said. "They are jealous of you."

"My crew is jealous of you and your crew," Lurecca said. "able to reach and be seen by others."

"I can see where that would be a problem for you in the federation," Landry said. "What brings you here?"

"My government has sent out explorers," Lurecca said. "lately they haven't been coming back because of your war in the heavens," Lurecca twirled her fingers in the air walking over in the direction of the windows to the office. She stopped at the edge. "We were able to retrieve distress calls and their logs as of recently. . . Not just that, first hand accounts."

"Survivors?" Landry said.

"Few crewmembers managed to escape, recently, during the battle," Lurecca said. "We have survivor accounts of gigantic starships being destroyed. Bird like vessels ambushing them, almost gliding in space when it is physically impossible for a starship to glide in space." she paced the empty length of the desk. "When I head of the stories, I couldn't believe it until I saw it for myself. My planet is out of reach, far away, deep space. It had taken us over six months just to get here bypassing warring birds and non-bird of preys."

"You want to help," Landry held her hand up. "We can't accept that."

"You have lost thousands of vessels," Lurecca said.

"Thousands of lives, yes," Landry said. "It won't be a fair war using you and your crew against the rogue Klingons."

"So you call them Klingons?" Lurecca said.

"Rogue Klingons," Landry said. "They don't speak on the behalf of all."

"It's not a fair battle at all what the rogue Klingons are doing in this war," Lurecca said. "Have you seen the planets they have taken? The bodies of dead children? Dead animals? Have you seen burned homes? Women mercilessly killed. Not a trace of survivors to speak out about what had happened?"

"Every day we try to do better not to let that happen again," Landry said. "Every day that a child dies, a young woman dies, or a small town is destroyed because of these rogue Klingons, my heart breaks. It breaks into pieces. I reassemble it, timely, and accordingly." Landry rubbed the side of her hands that were placed in her lap. Her eyes were fixated down on the figure standing on the table. "I have to step back to not let the loss of others effect my performance."

"Does it help?" Lurecca asked.

"It does," Landry said.

"I can't do that to myself," Lurecca said. "It would be torture _not_ to feel."

"There's a species called Vulcans who are emotionless," Landry said. "Stoic, calm and composed scientists. They make great officers because of that in Starfleet." Landry smiled with her hands under her chin looking down upon the woman. "

"Understood," Lurecca said. "So I take that your second officer is a Vulcan?"

"No," Landry said. "Just a human. You can easily tell who is a Vulcan among this crew."

"I would love to meet your Vulcans," Lurecca said. "To see for myself if these officers are as high esteemed as you say them to be."

Landry held her hand out.

"Come along," Landry said.

Lurecca walked onto the woman's hand. Landry placed the small woman onto her shoulder then traveled out of the cabin. She came down the hall. Lurecca noticed the strange officers with large heads that varied in color, size, and design. Some of them seemed to be humanoid with a different skin tone. She seemed to be perplexed at some one so different walking through the halls. Landry entered a turbo lift, then shortly afterwards came out of it and into another corridor that was full of officers in blue uniforms. Landry nodded back at the officers who greeted her. She came into sick bay where Soval was treating a Andorian security officer on the biobed. Soval turned toward the approaching officers.

"Commander," Soval said. "What brings you here?"

"Meet Captain Lurecca," Landry said, gesturing toward the smaller woman.

Soval lowered his gaze.

"You are a interesting individual," Soval said, then turned his gaze onto the first officer. "Was there a malfunction back in the transporter room that was not reported?"

"Not the case," Landry assured.

Soval waved the small medical tricorder up and down while looking at the tricorder flat screen.

"Perfectly fine," Soval said, stealing a glance toward the captain.

"Are you a Vulcan?" Lurecca asked, earning a eyebrow raise and a tilt from Soval.

Culber came over toward Soval.

"Doctor Soval, I jut finished that favor I owed you," Culber said, handing him a padd.

Soval stared at the padd the back.

"I just gave you that two hours ago," Soval said. "you should have had it done a hour ago."

"Well, it was a complex case," Culber said, then turned toward the women. Soval managed to put the padd into the hand that held the small glowing medical tricorder in one hand, "Sorry, Commander, I'll be off now." he left the two going off joining the fray with a relaxed demeanor. Soval turned his attention back toward the two.

"Pardon?" Soval asked. He looked toward the first officer. "Commander. . . is this first contact?"

"Warp civilization," Landry said. "You are the first Vulcan they ever met. You should be proud."

"I am not flattered by this," Soval said. "Flattery is a human emotion and you know as well as I do that Vulcans do not experience flattery."

"My apologies, Mr Soval," Landry said.

"None needed," Soval replied.

"A species that set themselves apart from their emotions," Lurecca said. "I never met anyone like that."

"Five inches tall," Soval said. "I have only met figures like that as collectibles."

"Toys," Landry said.

"Our toys are taller than us," Lurecca said, amused.

Landry and Soval shared a look of disbelief then back down toward the captain.

"Just how tall?" Soval inquired, curiously.

"Ten inches," Lurecca said.

"Toys are notably supposed to be small enough to play with," Soval said. "You're playing with _statues_."

"At least it helps us get stronger," Lurecca said, rolling her sleeve up to display her muscular arm.

Soval's jaw dropped.


	15. Choose your pain

As he had passed through the halls, his eyes glanced from door to door that had glowing purple bars in the small window. Lorca was shoved into a large cell landing to his side onto the floor. The doors closed behind him. Lorca felt around his waist band. They had taken his communicator off his person during the escort. From the large circular windows there were screams of pain and anguish coming from the windows that were set all over the room from all sides to the ceiling. There was a groaning figure hidden in the dark on both sides of the room. When Lorca looked on ahead, his eyes caught sight of his assignment. He saw a gray appealing Klingon at the back of the cell with one hand on her lap. Her head was tilted up at the bars. The white armor made the Klingon look like a warrior and a queen with sharp armor that made her seem royal.

Lorca slowly strolled toward the Klingon.

"You must be L'Rell, house of Mo'Kai, house of T'Kuvma." Lorca said.

"There is no T'Kuvma house," L'Rell replied, with a Klingon accent.

"I heard otherwise from Starfleet," Lorca said.

"That information is wrong," L'Rell said.

"Well," Lorca said, coming closer to L'Rell. "We have a Klingon informant who says otherwise."

"Your Klingon informant is full of shit," L'Rell said. "Honorable Klingons don't lie about that."

"I seem to recall that you were the little Klingon bird that tweeted that," Lorca said. "you have been the one saving lives."

She looked toward Lorca.

"T'Kuvma's house fell apart after the battle," she looked down toward her hands in shame. "after . . . After T'Kuvma's defeat at the hands of the Yeager's captain."

"Captain Maranville," Lorca said. "he must had a good reason."

"Good reason. . ." L'Rell muttered. "Now Voq is spearheading the war and I. . . I have . . . I have gone against everything a Klingon is supposed to be," Lorca slowly seated himself down in front of her. "I am part of the rogue Klingon fleet."

"No," Lorca said. "You are part of Starfleet," he placed a hand onto the side of her shoulder. "And every starfleet officer aboard this prison ship is going to get out of here alive."

"Tell that to the last Starfleet officer who tried to escape and died trying," L'Rell said.

"They weren't Gabriel lucky-with-a-torch-under-his-ass Lorca," Lorca reassured L'Rell.

"Captain Lorca," L'Rell said, as his name registered. "Starfleet captain. . . the captain who can't be fooled, victorious captain at the battle of Fey-tow, captain of the honorable Buran," she tilted her head. " _That_ captain?"

"One and only," Lorca said. "the only people who were honorable in that fight were my crew. They are the ones who destroyed two squadrons," the look of awe and admiration was present on her face. "I am not honorable nor am I victorious."

"So it is true," L'Rell said. "the stories about you playing mercy on Klingons and letting them go."

"Not completely," Lorca said. "Klingons don't like surviving a battle. It's the Klingon way."

"Respecting their honor," L'Rell said. "You are more Klingon than I ever was."

The smallest of a smile appeared on Lorca's face toward the woman. The door to the cell slid open. He looked over yanking his hand back from the Klingon's hands. Two Klingons who were a shade of blue entered the room in what seemed to be golden armor that had a fancy, sharp sleek aesthetic to it. It was like knight armor mixed with the armor of a Klingon. The lead Klingon had a D'k tahg in one hand. With a press of a finger the upper part of the dagger extended below the black handle.

"Choose your pain," SuDqu' said.

"What is this?" Lorca asked.

"Torture," L'Rell said.

L'Rell pointed at the direction of a hiding starfleet officer with regret in her eyes. She reached out stopping Lorca from going after the Klingon who proceeded to beat up the young man. There was a loud crack once the man's body hit the wall falling back to the floor. The second Klingon kicked the young man's head. Then there was silence as Lorca looked on in horror. Then his body was dragged away. The Klingons turned away and left the cell. The doors closed behind them, silently.

"Tell me," Lorca said. "Do you have another cellmate I should be aware of?"

L'Rell turned toward him.

"Lieutenant Ash Tyler," L'Rell said. "Security officer."

"Security," Lorca said. "we got the odds in our favor,"

"I am afraid not," L'Rell said, Lorca raised a eyebrow. "Voq has taken a liking to him."

"What kind of liking?" Lorca said.

"The taken advantage kind," L'Rell replied. "He won't be fit for serving on a federation ship, but for Klingons," Lorca squeezed his eyes with his head lowered. "we fight against them in counseling sessions."

Lorca slowly nodded.

"And you have been doing that with him, haven't you?" Lorca asked.

"It helps him feel better." L'Rell replied. "Playing out a fantasy happens to be relieving his anger."

"How close has he come to killing you?" Lorca said.

"Since my placement, three times," L'Rell said. "He has apologized and wish to not continue it."

"But you decline and want to help him," Lorca said.

"Yes," L'Rell said. "One of Yeager's officers once told me . . . My guilt is strong."

"Guilt can eat you up," Lorca said. "I am sure Klingons know that more than anything."

"If that is truly the word in your language that describes what I feel then it must be," L'Rell said. "I wear the cone of shame. Another 'Earth' phrase. Is it not?"

"It is," Lorca said. "look, are you with me to redeem your house and drive these rogue Klingons out?"

"For a Klingon with a worthy cause, I am willing," L'Rell said.

"My cause is to freedom and cooperation," Lorca said.

L'Rell held her hand out.

"You can count on me, Captain," L'Rell said.


	16. Finding a way

"Commander Landry," Georgiou's face appeared on the screen. "Captain Lorca has been taken in the field of action."

Landry stiffened.

"What happened?" Landry asked.

"Klingons got to him," Georgiou said. "The Shenzhou is holding onto the shuttle craft for the time being until you can come and get it. . . The coordinates are attached to the file I have just sent you," Landry looked down toward her padd. "there were no survivors," Landry closed her eyes then reopened them with a nod. "which is consistent with Klingons. I doubt they killed him."

"I will ready the ship for a rescue," Landry said.

"You don't," Georgiou said. "Lorca can take of himself. You have a better mission."

"Enlighten me, Admiral," Landry said.

* * *

"Do you have planets in your solar system, Captain?" Burnham asked, walking down the corridor.

"We do," Lurecca said.

"Have you explored them?" Burnham asked.

Lurecca had a small laugh.

"Not yet," Lurecca said, with a shake of her head freed her blonde hair to her shoulders. "we left the job for the robots."

"Perhaps it would be best that you either confine yourself to your solar system and continue progress on your technology," Burnham said. "Your height may come at a advantage but The United Federation of Planets, I am afraid as members you will be squashed."

"How tall are most members?" Lurecca asked.

"They range in height," Burnham said. "Three feet, four feet, five feet, and six feet and sometimes taller than that."

"So you would be capable of speaking with me was I three feet and not have to worry about killing me accidentally," Lurecca commented.

"Yes," Burnham said. "As helpful as it would be to have borrowers it would not be logical."

"You are implying we should make ourselves taller," Lurecca said.

"Should I be less subtle?" Burnham asked.

"You are not being subtle," Lurecca said. "That is blunt. What you are asking is impossible."

"Someone once said that flying in space, let alone using warp drive, was impossible," Burnham said. "In space, anything is possible." she came to the shuttle bay but came to a stop on the elevated staircase.

Burnham raised a eyebrow. There was a small replica of a early 21st century cruise ship laid in front of the steps. She slowly approached the small space craft. It was golden and white with a back end that had rings. Two of them in total. She looked down toward the decks to see hundreds of five inches tall humanoid like beings staring up at her. They had small spikes protruding from the sides of their faces that trailed up toward their heads becoming part of their hair. There was different ethnicity gazing back up at her. They were in a one piece uniform that was purple with secondary colors being blue, red, and green similar to the one that Lurecca was in except the secondary color was green. Burnham looked over toward Lurecca.

"Genetically altered?" Burnham asked.

Lurecca nodded in return.

"Starfleet is most comfortable speaking with people who look like them," Lurecca said. "According to reports."

"That is not exactly true," Burnham said. "we do not care what they look like only who they are inside."

"So most of Starfleet there must be humans in command," Lurecca said, as Burnham held her hand up to Lurecca's level.

"Mostly," Burnham said, as she looked back at the times the Shenzhou made contact with other federation ships with male and female captains in charge. Burham guided the woman down to a deck. "Make sure you stay out of the war."

Lurecca slid down Burnham's finger coming to a rest onto the wooden floor. The officers had stepped back from Lurecca as they looked on Burnham with intrigue and awe in their eyes. Curious explorers. It reminded Burnham of the Shenzhou crew before the war had begun. They were so young, bright, and helpful against what they had lost in part to the war with the Klingons taking lives away. In a way the burrowers reminded Burnham of Starfleet before the war had begun.

Lurecca turned toward Burnham.

"There are hundreds of us out there," Lurecca said. "When we want to help you and your ship. . . it's not going to be a request, it will be a statement."

Burnham nodded.

"Understood," Burnham said. Burnham held the ta'al up. "Live long and prosper, Captain."

"Have a peaceful and long life, _sir_ ," Lurecca said, with a sort salute. Lurecca's hand was flat set against her brow then her hand flew off.

Burnham stepped back, slowly, giving the starship space to depart. She came to the third stair step watching the be coated in what was a thin shield of some sort encompassing it. Burnham looked at intrigue and fascination. It turned then flew out of the shuttle bay leaving Burnham behind. Burnham exited the shuttle bay into the corridor. Landry came to a stop in front of the second officer with a heavy sigh.

"Burnham," Landry said. "we are going on a . . . little field trip."

"What kind of field trip, Commander?" Burnham asked.

"A trip where we are taking small jumps rather than big ones than we have lately," Landry said. "as of this moment, I am acting captain of this ship," the camera turned on Burnham who wore her stoic mask. "And you are the acting first officer."

"I do not understand what you mean by little jumps," Burnham said.

"We can't do big jumps without hitting disaster if Ephraim is not plugged in," Landry said. "little jumps are do-able," Burnham nodded in understanding. "Figure out a way to stand in for him in the next twenty four hours. This fieldtrip is taking us out of Federation Space."

"See what we can do, captain," Burnham said.

"Good," Landry said. Then Landry nodded back. "As you were, Number One."

Landry walked past Burnham who shifted toward the woman with a raised eyebrow.

* * *

Tyler was shoved into the room and the door closed behind him. He landed to the floor with a thud feeling a sharp pain in his clavicle. Voq had done more than his fair share today. Too bad the Klingon didn't ask how his shoulder felt. L'Rell came to his side. He placed a hand along his shoulder, familiar pain, that made getting hurt during the Yeager's sacrifice. Two hundred seven days spent surviving, not living.

"Another eight weeks out of commission," Tyler said. "Damn."

"Where did he hurt you now?" L'Rell asked.

"Shoulder," Tyler winced.

"He is never going to hurt you again," came a voice from over L'Rell's shoulder.

Tyler winced looking up toward the source of the voice.

"Captain Lorca insists that he can save us," L'Rell said.

"I doubt that," Tyler said.

Lorca came to the other side of Tyler.

"Well," Lorca said. "about time I met someone who felt the same way as I do about this plan getting off the table."

Tyler looked over in the direction of Lorca then noticed his gold somewhat torn shirt the his eyes looked toward the sleeves. Tyler's attention went directly toward the captain then looked over toward L'Rell then back at him in a state of shock. Lorca raised his eyebrows in return at the young man. Tyler didn't know what to say as he stared back at Lorca.

"And here I thought he would be happy to see a starship captain," L'rell said.

"It has been seven months," Lorca said. "Any crewmember would be shocked to see a captain again after so long." he turned his attention back onto the young man. Then he jokingly added, "Were you expecting a admiral with a fleet behind her?"

"Yes," the two said at once.

"I got something better than that," Lorca said.

"What is that?" Tyler asked.

"It depends if you can trust that I know what I am doing," Lorca said.

The two cellmates exchanged a glance then back toward Lorca.

"We do," the two said at once.

"But Tyler is going to stand by," Lorca said.

"No, I don't," Tyler said. "I can still serve."

"I highly doubt that from a victim," Lorca said. "you're compromised against Klingons."

"Serving in the line of duty when you can face your rapist and instead of letting him be taken in: you will take his Klingon disruptor and kill him on sight," L'Rell said, glaring toward the man. "I understand your anger, the hurt, and resentment you must feel toward him."

"What would you have me do?" Tyler said. "Doing nothing when he tries to kill one of us?"

"Firing a Romulan issued disruptor rather than a Klingon one," L'Rell said. "There are few who do have these."

"I need you _alive_ not consumed by revenge," Lorca said. "soldier."

Tyler stiffened.

"Is that a order?" Tyler asked.

"That is a order," Lorca said, then observed the two. "Now that we have some of Starfleet in one room. . . Let's start digging a pond for the ducks."

Tyler and L'Rell shared concerned looks.

* * *

It wasn't what Stamets had expected being taken to private with his partner Culber to meet with the recently acting first officer. Burnham hadn't changed to the familiar yellow shirt. It was though she was holding off. They were in a empty corridor when she reappeared coming toward the two men. Paul turned in the direction of the woman. Standing in the corridor felt different. Felt like something was wrong. Being approached in a lone corner of the ship that not many officers went down. Odd that they were not discussing in the second officers office room rather than the open space.

"So, what is up?" Paul asked.

Burnham came to a stop in front of the two then folded her arms

"Prior to coming to this conclusion, I have only come down to humans are compatible with the DNA of Mr Ephraim," Burnham said. "Humans and mushroom share a common ancestry." Culber grabbed Paul's arm as it slowly sunk in what was meaning. "We need a human to pilot the ship in the large jumps."

"You want us to do genetic alterations during a time of war?"

Burnham briefly closed her eyes then reopened them.

"Yes," Burnham said. "You two must make the decision of who goes in there for a month."

"Does Starfleet know?" Culber asked.

"Starfleet has given its okay on this," Burnham said.

"Starfleet wants to turn my invention into a human experiment," Stamets said. "No, no, no," he shook his hands. "You don't understand. We could pollute it or get killed by it if we put a human in there."

"We have no choice," Burnham said. "the most likely candidate is classified and out there in deep space," she unfolded her arms linking behind her back. "and they will provide a lifetimes worth of medical care for the rest of their natural life should the side effects become life altering. Even a retirement should they want it after the war."

"Earth bound, not being around there, that'll be torture to them," Stamets said. "How about I do it?"

Burnham titled her head.

"Mr Stamets, you are the chief astromycologist who made the spore drive possible," Burnham said. "It would not be logical to waste you on the spore drive."

"By the sounds, the spore drive has no chances of working full time after the war," Stamets said. "there won't be use for me after the war."

Burnham turned her attention onto Culber.

"No," Culber said. "one of his interns."

"They're too scared to say yes," Stamets said. "it's not a decision that can be made lightly." Culber looked over, with a glare, toward Stamets.

"Nor is letting my partner sacrifice his brain to a war," Culber said.

"Give us one minute," Stamets said.

"Five," Culber said.

Burnham walked away and waited from the adjoining corridor with her back against the wall. She had her arms folded staring at the ceiling. She waited and waited, and waited, until the two men had came over toward her. She leaned her back off the ceiling observing the two partners wearing a happy facade. Their looks betraying their mixed feelings that were not all bright about the issue. Burnham had seen this kind of reaction not once but many times in her career when tough decisions were made.

"Have you decided?" Burnham asked.

"Uh huh," Culber said. "I may not like it but Lieutenant Stamets has assured me that he will be under my care." he looked over toward the blonde.

Burnham turned her attention onto Stamets.

"Is this correct?" Burnham asked.

"Yes," Stamets said. "It's decided."

"I will give you five hours and re-approach me with this decision," Burnham said. "Until then, I have coding to finish."

Burnham turned away then walked down the hall.

"My dear doctor, I will be fine," Stamets said, reassuringly. "We get to be stationed on Earth after the war."

"What if we don't get stationed on Earth?" Culber asked. "What if Starfleet still wants you out there in space?"

Stamets softly looked back at Culber.

"Then I will bare it with you," Stamets said. "and so will you."

Culber placed a hand on Stamets shoulder.

"Just don't die on me," Culber said. "okay, Paul?" Culber raised his eyebrows. "That's a order from your doctor."

"I _always_ listen to your doctor's orders," Stamets said, pinching the man's cheeks with his fingers then walked off leaving Culber blushing.


	17. A small flickering flame

It was a hour later the next torture rotation came for Lorca's shared cell. SuDqu' came to the door of the cell with several Klingon officers around him. He pressed in the code onto the side panel then stepped forward. The recently taken captain was laid against a pillar. His yellow shirt was discarded to the side on the floor while one of the long sleeves were tightly wrapped around the shoulder injury. His black shirt was sleeveless while it outlined his muscular torso. He put the golden badge onto the shirt. Lorca stood up using the pillar as his support.

"Choose your pain," SuDqu' requested.

Lorca stepped forward with his hands up.

"Me," Lorca said.

Lorca exited the cell then the door closed behind him, silently, leaving behind a small medical device on the small pile of clothes. L'Rell came out of the shadows coming toward the door aiming it at the window. Tyler was by her side as they looked down onto the screen. They looked over in shock at each other.

"It worked," L'Rell said.

"I can't believe we didn't think of that," Tyler said.

"We did not have any of these devices with us when thrown in here," L'Rell said.

"Nor did we know that we were being tossed here," Tyler said. "we got a connection to the doors."

L'Rell looked toward the human.

"All of the doors?" L'Rell asked.

"All the prisoner doors," Tyler said. "We got a chance."

* * *

The torture chamber was wide and circular. The torturer on duty had all of their hair braided making the forehead crest standing out prominently. SuD cleaned the last of the daggers. She looked down toward the padd. Subject had damaged eyes that needed to be replaced. Most starfleet officers during their torture talked about what they had gotten replaced recently when in the middle of torture. The anger and resentment in their voices gave her life. It couldn't be exactly explained. No one could explain, a human argued with her and informed SuD that it was sadism. Humans had implied that eyes could be replaced with prosthetics. She prepared the lighting, opened the cuffs for her next subject and adjusted to the subject's wrist size.

She looked up from her padd to see her next subject brought in.

"Captain Lorca," SuD said, as she gestured the two Klingons to center. "Nice to see you in my chambers."'

"I have met worse people under better conditions," Lorca said, with a grin.

"Why do you grin at the face of your torturer?" SuD asked

"Because what you are going to do will take all the fun away," Lorca said.

"I think not," SuD said, as the cuffs clicked onto his wrists.

"I'm just one more bright explosion to being blind," Lorca said. "If I have be blind and wear a visor, then I will gladly live with it."

"Go," SuD dismissed the two Klingons. "SuDqu'."

SuDqu' came to a stop at the doors.

"Tell the captain that I am not happy with this subject," SuD said.

SuDqu' nodded then walked off.

"You like fun," Lorca said. "Now do you?"

"As every living being does," SuD said, snatching the badge off his chest.

"I am surprised," Lorca said. "why are you speaking federation standard?"

"It has become a necessity," SuD said. "as it is for all the Klingons aboard this ship."

"And here I thought you didn't give a rats ass about understanding people different from you," Lorca said, as SuD picked up a small dagger that had a sleek screen in the center of it. She quietly came toward him. "As it has been lately with the rogue Klingons."

"You call us rogue?" SuD asked.

"Not all the Klingons agree," Lorca said. "in fact, they are trying their best in stopping your captain and his allies."

"They will band with us and prevent you from taking more of our territory," SuD said, approaching him.

"We are not the best soldiers but we are the best sailors," Lorca remarked, as she slid the dagger under his throat. "killing me won't be fun for you either, Miss."

"It is SuD," SuD said, as she cut into the shirt until it fell apart. Her eyes lit then looked toward him. "How many wars have you been in?"

"Skirmishes," Lorca said. "a few." he had a small shrug.

"Battles," a fire flickered in the Klingon's eyes. "Losses, pain, and honor."

"Used to be retired last year, comfortably, living." She felt the shapes of his scars on his chest. Some of them had faded over time. The shape of a large bat'leth's scar was on his left shoulder. A 'C' shape but not quite. "then Voq came around and I got the Buran destroyed. Not the best arrangement I pictured for my retirement."

"What is your Klingon body count?" SuD asked.

"I lost count at thirty," Lorca said. "A long. . . long time ago."

SuD positioned the dagger on the center of his chest.

SuD made three separate lines in the shape of a circle then carved ten more lines that connected in the center of this circle. He closed his eyes resisting the temptation to scream in pain. Klingons were unique in some retrospects when it came to pain as far. At least some xenoanthropologists had managed to go uncover blending in and coming back to tell the tale. How they survived spending time on Qo'Nos was mostly unbelievable that Klingons would allow federation officers disguised as Klingons to observe them and to learn from them. There were documented cases of Klingons restraining themselves from screaming giving themselves a unnecessary scar. There are very few documented cases where Klingons relished in giving the xenoanthropologist a unnecessary scar. In each cases, they were unexplained. If Lorca were shown what they were given, it would not have looked like the scar that was being made on his chest. After finishing the final touches, she made a deep 'x' scar crossing out the bleeding mark on his chest earning a loud gasp.

"Is this your pain of choice?" SuD asked. "physical scarring?"

"No," Lorca said. "my pain helps me remember what I couldn't give to my crew."

"A choice," SuD said.

"No," Lorca lied, with a deliberate pause. "being explorers."

SuD pressed on the small screen as she stepped back.

"Then this will be fun," SuD said.

The cuffs glowed a shade of red and the blinds slowly began to open letting in sunlight.

"What a coincidence," Lorca said, with a wince and sarcasm. The blinds fully opened letting bright intense light into the room.

"We're stationed by a sun," SuD said, as Lorca's scream echoed through the sun. She wore a smile with folded arms looking off toward the human. "isn't that perfect?" He screamed in agony as the cuffs burned into his skin. His eyes opened to be blinded by the bright light pouring from all around him. SuD put on sunglasses as she sat down onto a chair and took a bite out of her lunch while listening to his painful screams.

* * *

Burnham popped out of the corridor coming along to Landry's side.

"Captain," Burnham said.

"Commander," Landry greeted. "Status report regarding the spore drive."

"Doctor Culber and Lieutenant Stamets have informed me that they agree on letting in Stamets being our Spore navigator," Burnham said.

"That could not have been easy to do," Landry said.

"For them, it was not," Burnham said. "for me. . .I needed their decisions final. It has been five hours since I first informed them."

"Good work, Number One," Landry said. "Looks like we can make this big jump tomorrow morning on schedule." She looked over toward Burnham. "Make sure Engineering puts a support chair in there for the Lieutenant."

"Aye," Burnham said, then split up from Landry.

"God help us with what we are about to do tomorrow morning," Landry remarked to herself.

* * *

"Hey, lover," Tilly said appearing on the observation deck. She was off duty outfit that was a matching two piece purple outfit. Her hair was freely laid on her shoulders. Tilly fumbled with her fingers looking over to see what Burnham was looking at. Then she looked over toward the slightly shorter woman. "What is up?"

Burham didn't budge where she stood watching the vastness of space pass by her from the large windows. They were different from the ones on the Shenzhou that were small enough to be used in a office and long enough to give a good view of the city. These windows were five inches larger at first glance. The Shenzhou represented simpler times. Not having to make requests of the crew. Crew that sacrificed their foreseeable future, potentially, for the needs of the many. Burnham sighed, briefly closing her eyes. Burnham shook her head then looked over in the direction of Tilly.

"I am bothered," Burnham said.

"By what?" Tilly asked, placing a hand on Burnham's back.

"The future," Burnham said. "On the Shenzhou, I knew the future was bright and certain a bit mysterious and perplexing but not as terrifying as being in a war." Tilly rubbed a circle on Burnham's back.

"You're so used to peace that with all these rogue Klingons make everything uncertain and seem like we could die," Tilly said.

"Indeed," Burnham said. "I do not know if feeling this is either good or bad."

"It is a good thing," Tilly said, lowering her hand over toward Burnham's side.

"How is that?" Burnham asked, raising a brow as she looked over toward Tilly.

"Because you can will into existence your future," Tilly said. "I willed my way into becoming a cadet, graduating early, and getting on a ship of science during the war."

"I plant the seed, I tend the seed, and I observe the seed grow into adulthood," Burnham said. "one of Surak's well known free verse poems." she had a smile of her own at space as a thought occurred. "Humans and Vulcans are not that different from each other philosophy wise."

"We are not," Tilly said, with a nod. The two women stood there observing space together. Standing shoulder to shoulder with Tilly made Burnham feel grounded and relaxed. Most of all, it felt right. "When are you coming to bed?"

"Now, Sylvia," Burnham said, reaching her two fingers out.

Tilly returned the gesture with a equally bright look on her face.

* * *

The door to the cell flew open. Tyler and L'Rell stood up then came forward. Lorca was shoved into the floor only instead landing into the arms of L'Rell. She seated him down against a pole. Lorca blinked adjusting his vision to see color but there was no shape. His eyes stung. He had a hoarse voice from screaming for hours on end. He opened his eyes to see red and gray seated side by side.

"What 'chu looking at, sailors?" Lorca asked, tiredly.

"Your wrists are severely burned," L'Rell said.

"Yes, about that," Lorca said. "My doctor can fix that."

"I think we're doomed with this development," Tyler said.

"My eyes will be better in a few hours," Lorca said.

"What if you don't?" Tyler asked.

"Then it looks like you have to fire on a Klingon," Lorca said. He closed his eyes, welcoming darkness shrouding them like a old friend. "I don't really like it." Lorca felt the woman's eyes were on him.

"Rest," L'Rell said. "we will figure out a better plan in case your eyes are permanently damaged."

"I damaged my eyes once," Lorca grumbled. "Can't be damaged even worse."

Tyler looked up toward L'Rell distressed as Lorca's eyes closed.

"How are we going to escape?" Tyler said, getting up. "I can't. . . I can't stay another day here!"

Tyler hit the wall with a fist and his head pressed against the wall with another hand placed on to it.

"I have heard . . ." L'Rell said. "that you and your starfleet officers, in dire times, turn to the faith of the heart."

"A classic earth song," Tyler said, turning toward her.

"Does it help you?" L'Rell said.

"No, it doesn't help," Tyler said. "where did you pick it up?"

"A doctor from the Yeager," L'Rell said. "What you call. . . Southern. Optimistic. She managed to escape some how, without dying from her torture." L'Rell had a long, sad but fond look on her face. "She sang it like it was her soul."

"It's a mantra that things will get better these days," Tyler said.

"And you have lost that hope," L'Rell said, in dismay.

"It's never going to end," Tyler said, with a shake of his head. "the next time I go in the captain's quarters. . ." he shook his head, emotionally, with his back to the wall. "I. . . am . . . going to. . ." he slowly sank down as it sunk in. " _die in here_."

"It will still work," L'Rell said, taking out a handkerchief from a hidden part of her armor. She knelt down to the side of Lorca then dabbed away at the blood on the human's chest. She looked down to see in Lorca's partially open hand was his badge. "I give you my word." she looked over toward Tyler. "We will make his plan work."


	18. What is done to further a cause

"Ready to jump?" Landry's voice came over the intercomn.

"In one minute," Stamets said. "Engineering out." Stamets turned toward the engineering crew. "Give us a moment."

Burnham and Tilly exited engineering along with the rest of the dozen so crewmembers as Culber came to Stamets side. All who were left were the nurses tending to the equipment that were around the station. Behind Culber's back, there was a hypospray in his right hand. Stamets cupped both sides of the doctor's face then kissed him. Culber relaxed while his right hand placed onto Stamets waist. It was Stamets who broke the kiss with a soft, easy going smile at the man.

"Have I told you how much I loved you?" Stamets asked.

"You show me that everyday," Culber said, then with a swift move of his hand applied the device into Stamets's neck.

"Hugh?" Stamets asked, his grip loosening from Culber's face.

"And this is me showing how much I love you," Culber said, guiding him over to a nurse.

"Is our navigator ready?" Landry's voice came over the intercomn as Culber slid up his sleeve to reveal a glowing blue outlet against his dark skin.

Stamets's eyes closed and his head fell to the side as Culber slipped open the outlet.

"Ready for the big jump, Captain," Kleggan said, as the door closed behind Culber.

Culber nodded back as the long, thin device was inserted into his outlet.

* * *

It had been hours since Lorca had been tossed into the very same cell with even more damaged eyes. Lorca used the small pen like device on his eyes after waking up. The scars on his chest irked the Klingon. The old ones seemed even more alarming. Unlike Tyler, his scars were more physical than anything. On the center of his left hand there was a small faded scar as though he had been stabbed through it. Lorca had the scars of a survivor. The door to the cell smoothly opened before the small group. Pressed against one of the pillars. His long cuts were no longer cleaning. L'Rell hiding among the shadows.

Tyler had a hand placed on Lorca's shoulder as he looked up toward the Klingon.

"Choose your pain," Sudqu' requested.

"I choose me," Tyler countered back, slowly standing up.

"The captain does not want you hurt," Sudqu' said.

"I want to see your coward," Tyler said, approaching Sudqu'. "only cowards take power away. Your captain is no captain."

Sudqu' snarled back then delivered a punch into Tyler's face. Tyler reached forward yanking out a dagger from the Klingon's belt then stabbed into Sudqu's chest. Sudqu's companions entered the cell. L'Rell came from the side of the cell pouncing on the second companion and ripped the disruptor out of their hand. She turned it on the Klingon pressing the trigger. She fired twice vaporizing two Klingons in her line of sight. Tyler finished repeatedly stabbing into the Klingon's chest sending the Klingon down.

"Enough," L'Rell said, coming to his side.

"That's what I said," Tyler said. "It's never enough."

"It is now," L'Rell took the dagger from his trembling. "Lieutenant."

Tyler looked down toward his bloody hand.

Then Tyler started to sob for the first time in months. L'Rell placed a gray hand on the Lieutenant's shoulder gently taking him away. She raised her disruptor aiming at Sudqu' who was on his knees looking up on her with dead eyes. She looked at him, back, ashamed. With one blast, Sudqu' was gone. Lorca got up to his feet as L'Rell let go of the security officer's shoulder. Lorca picked up the padd that was left beside him. He came over to the side of the taller Klingon.

"Which doors are in this sector?" Lorca asked.

L'Rell looked over toward the captain.

"This, this, this, and that," L'Rell said. She held her fingers up. "How many fingers am I holding up?"

Lorca's eyes were on the screen.

"None," Lorca said.

"Captain," L'Rell said.

"Three blurry fingers," Lorca said, looking up toward her warily. He faked a smile. "happy now?"

"Can you see what is on the screen," L'Rell said, as the captain turned his attention onto the screen.

"I can see blurry numbers so I am trusting my gut," Lorca tapped on random buttons on the padd. Tyler had stopped sobbing, abruptly.

Tyler and L'Rell had a knowing glance. The doors across from them opened. L'Rell took the captain by the shoulder leading him out of the cell with Tyler lagging behind. Lorca came to the center of the hall. Officers with unkept hair, slowly growing beards, torn and tattered uniforms came out of the cells. A few of them had stubs where their hands should be and it was only one warm when it came to that. A few of them had scars on their faces. A couple of them had black eyes.

"I am Captain Lorca. And this is L'Rell," Lorca said. "Klingon Consultant," L'Rell had a grave nod back at the officers. "and I am getting you all out of here."

"How can we be sure that she isn't going to stab you in the back?" one of the red shirts asked.

"She hasn't killed me or the captain," Tyler said. "she is not like them." As L'Rell scanned the doors.

"You have, remarkably, opened all the cells I mentioned, Captain Lorca," L'Rell remarked, observing the last door opening.

"Let's get to the bridge," Lorca said. "we are taking over this hell hole." he turned toward L'Rell. "would you do the honors?"

"I rather leave that to Lieutenant Tyler," L'Rell said. "I will get you and the crew the weapons."

"I like the way you are thinking," Lorca said, as a delighted smile grew on his face.

* * *

"Doctor Pollard," Burnham said, coming to the slightly taller dark woman's side. "How is Culber doing?"

"I really can't say for certain," Pollard said, as he looked at the scans. "It's like Ephraim's DNA is rewriting Doctor Culber's DNA," she turned from the padd. "Estimated time of waking up next thirty-three minutes."

"Fascinating," Burnham said.

"It'll be a miracle if his mind is still the same after all that," Pollard said.

"Which is?" Burnham asked.

"Being linked to a network, something beyond my pay grade," Pollard glanced over toward the doctor then back toward the first officer. "In the meantime, we are monitoring his vitals."

Pollard walked away. Burnham came over to the astromycologists side. Stamets was rubbing the side of his head. He had a heavy sigh. A look of concern and regret on his face was clear as he looked toward Culber. The very thing that he had studied, created, and nurtured had hurt someone he cared. His sleeves were rolled up displaying not a sign of blue pocket. His mind was somewhere else. Several decks away and a hour away from now.

"I can't believe he did that for me," Stamets said.

"It is not a surprise for someone who cares so deeply about others," Burnham said.

"It surprised me," Stamets said. "I woke up this morning and he wasn't there."

"Sometimes the surprising can turn out to be something good when it seems bad," Burnham said.

"How?" Stamets said.

"You find some peace with it," Burnham said.

Burnham's mind went back to the first day on Vulcan. The spacious house that had a unique theme to it. The eye friendly paint, the unusual chairs, couches, and the carpeting. The paintings on the wall that depicted Vulcans of the past. Some that were draped in fancy clothes that gave some character. The old sehlat that tailed after her from room to room. A young girl observing her new parent meditating, alone, in his quarters. The peace and serenity that he had was something she didn't have. Back then, she envied Sarek for looking so at peace. Not disturbed by what was going on around him as the curtains blew in his way from the strong wind. The house becoming accustomed to her. The environment around her became a fascination that helped her find peace in her new life.

"That should be me on that bed," Stamets said. "I should have known . . . I should have. . ." he closed his eyes pressing his fisted hands together onto the center of his forehead. "I should have noticed them."

Burnham looked over toward the cybernetic additions to the man's forearms.

"People are good at hiding when they don't want their loved ones to be concerned," Burnham said.

"Have you hid something from people you love?" Stamets asked.

"A number of times," Burnham said. "Sometimes people cannot handle the truth."

"The truth," Stamets said, grabbing hold onto Culber's hand. "The truth that I won't be myself."

"I understand how it must feel to be in his position," Burnham said

"Then you would have done what he did," Stamets said.

"I would have been duty bound to do so," Burnham said.

Stamets looked over toward the woman.

"I would have done it in a heartbeat," Stamets said. "lied to him that we found another candidate, a willing intern, willing to serve Starfleet. . ." he rubbed Culber's hand. "a little white lie that Hugh would have seen through. He would have done it anyway."

"Lieutenant," Burnham said. "There is only one bright side to this situation."

"What is that?" Stamets said.

"The chances of you surviving this war and growing old with your partner are significantly higher," Burnham said.

"A cruel irony," Stamets said. "He might be a little different. I accept that, love him, and do what he always does for me." Stamets had a emotional sigh rubbing Culber's hand. "Take care."

Burnham nodded then walked away. She found the captain outside of the private medical quarters. Landry had her arms folded while leaned against the wall with her fingers tapping on her shoulder. A look of slight patience was on her face.

"Captain," Burnham said. "the doctor will be awake in the next hour."

"Good," Landry said. "We're going on warp drive to retrieve a lost starship. Go down to the lower engineering decks and make sure those grapplers are ready to be used after he is up."

"Aye, captain," Burnham said.

"Lorca is not going to like sacrificing our best doctor just to go places," Landry said.

"As Lorca once said to me," Burnham said. "This is war. We fight to win. Sacrifices are not in vain."

"Wise words from a man skilled in ending war," Landry said.

"Some of what he says are wise and then they are not," Burnham said.

"I _hate_ war, Number One." Landry leaned herself off the wall then walked away with a unpleased demeanor as Burnham watched her leave. "This war will end soon."

* * *

Lorca came to the bridge of the Klingon ship with L'Rell walking ahead of him to the front console. Officers poured into the red themed bridge that wasn't glowing at all. Some seemed to be mystified at the color. A few were disgusted.

"Start sending the distress call," Lorca said, as he came to the front chair. He sat down with a relieved sigh.

"Distress call is ready." L'Rell said. "Ready to be sent in one. . . two . three."

"This is Captain Lorca of the USS Discovery aboard a Klingon prisonship. We are in need of help getting to federation space. Respond, we are in Klingon space and require back up." Lorca rubbed the side of his head. "If there is any Federation friendly allies around here, then help us. This ship is crawling with Klingons. Lorca out."

L'Rell turned.

"I have sent the transmission," L'Rell said.

"Yes!" Tyler said. "We are getting out of here!"

"We are going home," a engineer said, while trembling in disbelief.

"Never think I would say this, but I have missed being on a old federation ship," Tyler said. As the officers shared hugs. The bridge was rather occupied with likely thirty officers rejoicing. "what is next, captain?"

"Now we play the waiting game," Lorca said. "and another game, at that," the officers looked at him with odd looks. "We mess with them."

"That is a good game," Tyler said.

"Fine by me," a security officer said.

Lorca looked at the surrounding officers who only nodded back.

"Turn on the intercomn," L'Rell pressed buttons on the screen. The bridge was the shape of a crystal. The console was in the center of this crystal with buttons decorating it. She nodded back at the captain. "I regret to inform you that Starfleet has commandeered this vessel. If you find yourself cornered by a Starfleet officer, then just know, there is more where we come from and we will cover that officer. Captain Voq, I am quite aware how humiliating this must be. If you decide to have a last stand here then I welcome it and engage willing in the fight we may share."

Lorca twirled his finger then L'Rell pressed the button.

"Captain Lorca," a medical officer said. "Do you intend on doing that without a shirt?"

Lorca looked over toward the nurse.

"Damn straight I do," Lorca said.

"Captain," L'Rell said. "there are hundreds of boats attaching to the ship."

"What kind of boats?" Lorca said, as everyone looked up or around them.

"It says. . . Small versions of large boats," L'Rell said. She looked up toward the captain in disbelief. "how is that possible?"

"That might be our help," Tyler said.

"Might be," Lorca said. "Get us into that channel. And contact whoever is commanding that fleet."


	19. One step forward, one step back

All the cell doors were open.

There was silence as SuD looked into one of them then shook her head looking back toward the captain.

"Baktag!" Voq swore, hitting the wall with a fist.

"HoD?" Commander Doq said. _Captain?_

Voq turned toward Doq and the large group of Klingon warriors.

"Duj batlh je tlhap wItI'nISmo' maH!" Voq said. _We take back our ship and our honor!_ "Tlhlngan MaH. taHjaj!" _Remain Klingon!_

The klingons raised their disruptors in the air repeating the chant as their voices echoed down the corridor making a disturbing chill in the air.

* * *

The last Culber recalled was flying among a web.

It was like a spiderweb in the shape of a tunnel.

The bright blue intensity was all around him.

Culber knew which web that he had to bring the Discovery toward.

It was like he was flying without any asteroids in the way, the great barrier, planets, or gas planets for that matter alone habitable moons. It was as though he was the only person in there piloting a roller coaster going exactly the same speed he was and everywhere he looked there were tracks. Except, the ship was his tether that he was guiding. Then came the impromptu crash landing that was like a hard thud against the pavement. The ship was no longer connected to him and he was free to take his time. The first thing he sensed was warmth. It was coming from his hand.

"Paul?" Culber asked, softly. His eyes slowly opened.

"Hugh," Stamets said, squeezing Culber's hand as a smile grew on his partner's face.

"Did everyone make it?" Culber asked. Culber rubbed his forehead. "Felt like I crashed."

"All one hundred thirty-four," Stamets said. "We are well on our way of fulfilling the mission."

"Good," Culber said, relieved as he lowered his hand.

"Just leave the next glorious sacrifice to me, will you?" Stamets asked.

"It wasn't a glorious sacrifice," Culber said. "It was a lovely sacrifice."

"It wasn't lovely, Hugh," Stamets said, as Culber leaned up on to the biobed.

"If I can't be there then the next sacrifice won't be from me," Culber said, cupping the side of Stamets's face with his right hand. "I just hope the next sacrifice from one of us won't be fatal."

"On the continued growth of my mushrooms: it won't be," Stamets said, Culber combed his hand through the blonde man's hair. "I guarantee you."

* * *

SuD lead the third Klingon team down the corridor.

The small group heard sounds of running.

Each time they turned the running came to a stop.

It was frightening to say for the least.

In a hall that was mostly occupied by Klingons, there were sounds but the source wasn't there. It sounded like there were thousands of people were marching. The Klingons warily resumed their trek through the corridors. The doors were left open to the cells. A few of the Klingons looked into the cells with their disruptors on ready to vaporize them. SuD was looking in both directions. Voq wanted the starfleet captain brought to him, alive, and the rest to be given death or being beaten up. The misery of the Starfleet officers were what the prisonship was brought out of its former retirement.

"NuqneH!" SuD greeted, holding a fist up signalling the group to a halt.

"I am giving you a chance," Tyler said. "Who's side are you on?"

"tlhIngan maH!" SuD replied. _We are Klingons!_

"Figured," Tyler said, with a shrug.

"Heghlu'meH QaQ jajvam!" SuD said, as the Klingons aimed at the human. _Today is a good day to die!_

"All right," Tyler said, with a whistle.

By Tyler's sides appeared two star fleet officers holding a phaser.

"nuqjatlh?" SuD said. _Huh?_ As two more officers filled in the gaps holding daggers.

Tyler waved his free hand back.

"Today _is_ a good day to die," Tyler said, taking out a disruptor from behind his back. "I heard Gre'thor has a open slot, Doctor SuD." with the press of the trigger, jets of green light flew toward the large Klingon group.

* * *

Nurse Travis slipped and fell then looked over his shoulder. Doq's group was ganging up on them. Travis limped his way from the scene. Doq dropped the Andorian officer to the floor barely alive. He snapped his fingers summoning two officers behind him. Travis's dagger was on the floor. As another Yeager crewmember fell to the floor with a cry of pain. Doq was ganging up on Travis then lunged. Travis jumped out of the Klingon's way coming to a skidding stop against the corner of the hallway. Doq landed onto a thin gray wire. A long, gray blade came down slicing off Doq's head.

Lurecca climbed onto the top of Doq's head then gave a thumbs up.

"We will take care of this group," Lurecca said. "Just stay out of this corridor for fifteen minutes while my people do what their best at."

Travis nodded with a concerned look on his face.

"You are barbaric," Travis said.

That earned a smile on Lurecca's face.

"I'll take that a a compliment," Lurecca said, then took out a communicator like device. "Kachiko itch-eh, orch-eh duh ka-choe Lu-eee." _Do it, orders of Captain Lurecca._ She closed the device then looked up toward Travis. "I look forward to meeting you again under better circumstances."

Lurecca had a small wave at Travis as she vanished in green light.

Travis slid his back down the corner of the hall.

"I hate this war," Travis said, in a upset tone of voice.

* * *

"Hello, Captain Voq," Lorca said.

Voq and his army of Klingons turned in the source of his voice.

"Captain Lorca," Voq said, stepping forward. "How does it feel to be in war again?"

"Miserable," Lorca said. "I propose a truce to discuss these issues."

"This is nothing to speak of," Voq said.

"Not bad English," Lorca said, stepping forward with his hands up. "Did you learn that from Tyler?"

"He is mine," Voq said.

"He is Starfleet property," Lorca said. "he belongs to no one."

"The federation claims our territory is theirs," Voq said.

"Really?" Lorca said. "What you took has always been yours except for the mining colonies."

"You have been starving us of planets to conquer," Voq said. "so we are starving you, kicking you out space by space, and destroying every ship that dares to defy us."

"We haven't been destroying your ships in the first place," Lorca said, stepping forward. "You are scared that we are trying to destroy your culture."

"This federation has no honor!" Voq shouted.

"Really?" Lorca said, raising his eyebrows. "From what I heard, rogue Klingons have no honor." he stepped to the side. "Now, I am not interested in killing any more Klingons then I have to today. Leave _or_ ," he held his index finger up. "die in a honorable fight."

Voq stepped forward with a deep, sinister growl.

"I have honor," Voq said. "Except you, veteran of culture destruction and dishonorable battles."

"Honor once used to be based on honesty and respect in your culture," Lorca said. "you're using a twisted version of it."

"But the destruction of cultures!" Voq shot back.

"Cultures change and adapt," Lorca said. "we hardly destroyed them."

"They were never the same after joining your federation," Voq said. "what was once our allies have become our enemies."

"These battles tend to happen because of misunderstandings," Lorca said. "We only fire when we can't solve the problem."

"This is a problem that you cannot solve with your peace," Voq said. Voq growled back standing tall over the short human. "Killing you without a fight would be a waste of my time."

"This isn't over," Lorca said.

"Yes, it is," Voq said. "Your precious ship is no where nearby."

"The next time I see you, it better be behind a field," Lorca said.

"Dying by my dagger from battle," Voq added.

"We'll cross that bridge when we get there," Lorca said, stepping to the side even further. "As you were, _Captain_."

Voq walked past the captain. The last Klingon charged at Lorca with a dagger at hand. Lorca dodged then slipped out his Klingon disruptor then fired at them. He stopped with his phaser aiming at the distance Voq standing there at the corner staring back. Lorca saw the blurry figure stand there, meeting his eyes, in a tense moment. Voq left calling, "mej!". _Depart!_ Lorca lowered the disruptor. He had one fight but the battle to end the war was another. Lorca sighed then took out his communicator.

"Lorca to Tyler, the rest of the ship taken?" Lorca asked.

"Aye," Tyler said. "We got her. L'Rell reported that Engineering is well in our hands."

"Good work," Lorca said.

* * *

Landry sat back into her chair.

"We'll be on our way to Starbase 46," Lorca said. "I haven't heard any reports regarding the Discovery's capture or destruction . . . so I am taking that as another good week in the war," he had a weathered smile. "Good work, Ellen. Lorca out."

Landry smiled.

"Computer, archive message," Landry said.

Landry turned from the bulky, white object with a smile on her face.

"Message archived," came the computer's reply.

* * *

The Discovery came to starbase 46 as it had been requested. A large Klingon prisonship was in the dry docks being rectified to a different affiliation. It had been a week with the Discovery's field trip and Lorca's brief absence. Burnham rarely went to the bridge even with being first officer under the argument that she hadn't been assigned to the bridge. The look of bemusement on Landry's face and Burnham's stoic demeanor with that argument was enough to let it go for the time being. Burnham watched with curiosity from her window with folded arms. The rescue mission of the USS Gigarin had been taxing for their chief doctor turned navigator. She made her way down toward the observation deck a logical place to check first when it came to a wandering captain. When she arrived, there was Lorca staring on into space. He looked over his shoulder then shared a small warm smile.

"Hello, Number Two," Lorca said.

"I heard we have a new crewmember from the Yeager," Burnham said.

"I made him a promise," Lorca said. "long as I am still serving aboard this ship, he can be be part of war and get counseling. In the mean time," he turned his attention onto the prison ship. "You have a consultant to work with in the upcoming future."

"Consultant?" Burnham raised a eyebrow.

"Someone who lived among the Klingons," Lorca said. It didn't sound well. "What better is it than having a Klingon aboard?"

"We are war with them," Burnham reminded.

"We are at war with rogue Klingons," Lorca said. "She is a eye opener. A Klingon, Commander. She knows more about Voq than we do."

"She is our Voq consultant," Burnham said.

"She is strictly not part of Starfleet and does not wish to join it after the war," Lorca said. He sighed then turned his attention onto Burnham. "So I heard you were acting first officer."

"I managed," Burnham noticed his blue eyes were brighter. "You have prosthetic eyes."

"I bought the expensive ones," Lorca said. "more pain the better for my eyes."

"Captain," Burnham said. "Does Commander Landry know of the consultant?"

"Uh huh," Lorca said. "She is escorting the officer to her quarters right now. We had a short discussion about it before L'Rell was beamed aboard," Burnham visibly relaxed. "You better get along with L'Rell. She is not our enemy. She is our friend for the time being."

"I did not consider her a enemy when you mentioned her as a consultant," Burnham said. "She can not be what I want her to be, she can only be what she is."

"Wise words," Lorca said.

Burnham nodded.

"Captain," Burnham started. "I might have something to attend to on Vulcan in the upcoming year."

"How important is it?" Lorca asked.

"Life or death," Burnham said. "I will report to engineering due to this matter."

"Understood," Lorca said. "It will be a shame to lose you for so long."

"It will only be a day if it goes the way I want it," Burnham said.

"Oh, a day," Lorca said. "should you not come back does that mean I should get another second officer?"

"There are fine officers aboard this vessel fully capable of taking over," Burnham said. "Such as Lieutenant Stamets."

"Damn, you got me," Lorca said, light heartedly. "good officer."

"Indeed," Burnham agreed. "he is."


	20. To add injury to insult

"Commander Burnham," Landry said, as she looked around.

"Tricorder readings are inconclusive," Burnham said, as Tilly bounced against the ground. Burnham was intrigued by the unstable, bouncy ground.

Landry faced L'Rell.

"How was there a base of operations built here?" Landry said.

"They were not," L'Rell said. "they were landed here."

"I do not believe they would fair well with a unstable ground," Landry said.

"Humans have a phrase they like to use," L'Rell said. "when there is a will, there is a way."

"How are you keeping your balance, L'Rell?" Tilly asked, with a hand placed on Burnham's shoulder.

"Klingons keep their balance," L'Rell said.

Tilly managed to wobble her way from Burnham over toward a tree across from L'Rell. Burnham looked in intrigue. The tree, unlike the ground, wasn't as bouncy to the touch. It felt firm and sturdy, nor did it wiggle when Tilly leaned against it. Burnham looked down toward the tricorder scanning the tree. The readings came back as a tree. A perfectly normal pine tree. There were pine trees all around them except for one somewhat thin but large enough to be chopped down and turned into limber for a cottage. Tilly situated herself off the tree as the group went on their path forward. Burnham was keeping her balance against the unstable ground. Tilly jumped and bounce off a distance with a squeal.

"Ensign Tilly," Landry called. "We do not squeal during a operation!"

"Ships we use don't allow Klingons to hear what is going on outside," L'Rell replied. "She can scream as loud as she like and no one would hear her."

"I stand corrected," Landry said. "This appears to be a exception."

"THIS IS SOOO COOOL!" Came Tilly's reply, as she jumped again this time landing upside down on the grass. "Look at mee!"

Burnham raised a eyebrow while L'Rell placed a hand onto her lowering her head.

"We are extremely fortunate," Burnham said.

"There are times I wish we never took over this planet," L'Rell said. "Humans are predictable."

"Indeed, we are," Burnham agreed, as L'Rell walked ahead.

"Woohooo!" Tilly cheered with a bounce.

"Be careful, Ensign," Burnham called.

"Ensigns being careful in a time of war," L'Rell said. "As if."

"You have experience with ensigns?" Burnham asked.

"More than you can imagine," L'Rell said. "most of whom I shared no romantic feelings towards."

"She loves feeling feelings," Burnham said.

"I am surprised to find a Vulcan-Human discovering love among her kind," L'Rell said.

"It was easy," Burnham said.

"Vulcans cannot lie," L'Rell said.

"I am not Vulcan," Burnham replied.

"You seem Vulcan," L'Rell said.

"You seem human," Burnham said. "Not many Klingons decide to help the federation."

"Thank you," L'Rell said.

Burnham raised a eyebrow as the Klingon rushed ahead of her. L'Rell was quite odd to the second officer. Most Klingons, from what her studies had given, would have taken that as a insult. They prided themselves over being warriors, proud, and honorable. They were once thought as worthy opponents to face on the battlefield when it came to hand to hand combat. Burnham watched L'Rell catch up behind Tilly. Tilly fell into a fit of laughter landing onto her side. Tilly's face was a shade of bright pink. L'Rell helped Tilly up to her feet. Tilly was hunched over wiping tears off her cheeks. Tilly regained her footing then resumed her way with some difficulty walking. There was a loud cracking sound from a nearby tree.

"Ensign!" Burnham called.

L'Rell shoved Tilly out of the way.

"Hey!" Tilly shouted, as she bounced out of harms way.

Tilly landed between two branches, safely, then looked down to see what was going on.

* * *

L'Rell was recovering on a biobed. Tilly stood alongside Burnham feeling down and a bit concerned. Tilly was in her off duty outfit with folded arms. The fear was radiating off the slightly taller woman. Burnham looked over in the direction of the young woman then back on the resting Klingon. The medical equipment was echoing around them. Waiting for several hours to hear if the surgery was successful. Tilly being relieved of duty during that time. Burnham, Landry, Tyler, and another security officer went down to claim the planet from the Klingons. Which was a rather easy mission. Three surviving Klingons were in the brig awaiting a decision from Starfleet on what to do with them. Lorca speculated that they would not live to see a starbase.

"Sylvia, don't blame yourself," Burnham said.

"She is paralyzed from the waist down," Tilly said. "I admit, I was having fun when I should have been paying attention."

"No one expected it," Burnham said. "the logic in your guilt is not sound." she placed a hand onto Tilly's shoulder.

"I know," Tilly said. Then she nodded. "That's it. I owe her one."

"What do you mean?" Burnham said.

"More like a debt thing," Tilly said. "I have to do something in return for her. Might be in a few hours. Next week, a few months from now, or after the war," Tilly paused looking on toward the resting Klingon. "Whenever she wants, I'll do it."

"If that is how you deal with guilt in a healthy way then I will accept it," Burnham said.

"You never owed someone?" Tilly said.

"Hardly," Burnham said.

"Not even on the Shenzhou," Tilly said. "that is hardly surprising."

"Indeed," Burnham said. The sounds of groaning came from the bed. "She is waking up," she looked toward Tilly. She let go of Tilly's shoulder. "Do you need me as company?"

"Yes," Tilly said.

Burnham reached out then took Tilly's larger hand. Tilly looked over, in surprise, toward Burnham. A smile grew on Tilly's face practically beaming back. As though she had realized just how much of a big step that Burnham was taking. Tilly's face was glowing back at Burnham, proudly, and happily. The two women came toward the waking Klingon's side. Parchi walked past them while speaking with Soval regarding a upcoming surgery. The two women stood side by side along the Klingon. L'Rell's eyes opened then adjusted to the light in the room.

"Ensign," L'Rell said. "Alive and well."

"Thanks to you," Tilly said. "Speaking of which, I owe you."

L'Rell raised a eyebrow ridge.

"She has to do something for you in return," Burnham said.

"I will consider it," L'Rell said. "Why can I not feel my legs?" The two women were silent. "I need a answer."

"Sorry for being late," Culber said, rolling down his sleeve as he came to the other side of the biobed. "Commander, Ensign," he was surprised to see them. "You don't have to be here."

"We have to," Tilly said.

"Oh," Culber said.

"What is wrong with my legs, Doctor Culber?" L'Rell asked.

"It's your spine," Culber said. "It was severed."

L'Rell looked toward Tilly.

"That I owe you situation, Ensign," L'Rell said. "after the war, I want to be alone with you and you will repay me."

"Sure!" Tilly said, with a smile.

"You do realize what I mean," L'Rell asked.

"Uh huh," Tilly said.

"You don't know what I mean," L'Rell said.

"I do know," Tilly

"What do two people alone do?" L'Rell said.

"Play games, cuddle, read, meditate, and sex to name a few," Tilly said.

L'Rell glanced over toward Burnham.

"You should tell her," L'Rell said.

"I shall," Burnham said.

"Tell me what?" Tilly asked, confused looking over toward Burnham.

"Commander Burnham report to science lab 3," came over the intercomn.

Burnham left Tilly, Hugh, and L'Rell in sick bay.


	21. To wheel into a new type of life

"And these are the readings that could possibly explain away why M class planet Franschiko is the way it is," Science Officer Lurelle said. Burnham raised a thick eyebrow in return. "The planet is unstable because it used to be a experimental moon."

"Man made," Science Officer Terry said.

"It has a metal interior," Lurelle said. "and very expandable."

"Part of the element that was thought to be lost by time," Terry said. "Flexi -8."

"We found evidence through deep scans of the planet that it had been repeatedly hit by asteroids in its ancient past," Lurelle added. "It became a habitable moon when the planet it was orbiting was destroyed one way or another. Some how the moon was placed into the orbit. The last asteroid was guided down and landed there safely. This asteroid was the first introduction of life."

"And you know what this asteroid became?" Terry asked.

"Enlighten me," Burnham said.

"It fell apart." Lurelle said.

"How?" Burnham asked.

"Since the moon doesn't have tectonic plates and it was built as a experimental Dyson sphere, it simply went what it was built to do when the first sign of life appeared," Burnham came over to the computer to see the imagery of the planet. "It started producing landscapes fit for a planet." Burnham slowly turned in the direction of the two science officers. "You heard that right. It _produced_ its landscapes. It took the asteroid and made the asteroid part of its soil."

"Do you know who built it?" Burnham asked. The Andorians shared a glance then back on Burnham.

"Not yet, Commander," Terry said.

"It's probably the relic of a long lost civilization," Lurelle said.

"If they left any evidence, it is likely very fine text," Terry said. "Look on the bright side, Commander, you get to be chief of science until Ephraim's return."

"It cannot come any faster," Burnham said. "Now per Starfleet's command, the captain will be classifying your findings."

"Aye," the two Andorians said.

* * *

Two hundred seven days aboard a Klingon prison ship and a handful of those spent with a Klingon in the same cell, Tyler knew a bit about wounded pride. Tilly walked out of sick bay, confused, escorted by Soval who was telling her about a friend of his who dodged getting drafted into the war by some unconventional means. Tyler walked in. He saw the woman was resting on the long biobed with her hands clasped onto her torso. There was a sad aesthetic about her. The resigned, defeated look on her face. A miserable state of mind. Tyler straightened his red uniform then came forward. A nurse came behind him with a hoverchair in tow. He came over to the side of the biobed.

"Lieutenant," L'Rell said. "Your optimism and heart is not applicable here."

"So," Tyler said, rubbing his hands. "I heard about your boxing with a tree."

"The tree fought valiantly," L'Rell said.

"That was a joke, L'Rell," Tyler said. "Nurse, let me do it." The nurse nodded, leaving the chair alongside the right side of the biobed. He sat on the edge of the biobed. The ashamed Klingon looked away. "I know."

"You know nothing," L'Rell said.

"You're using someone to end it for you after the war," Tyler said. "Someone who will be feeling a hell lot of things. She doesn't know what she is getting into repaying you. And I know that she will be upset when she learns what she will have to do."

"She owes me," L'Rell said.

"Did she say that?" Tyler asked.

There was a short pause between the two.

"Yes," L'Rell said. "Burnham will tell her."

"You do realize that you don't have to task the first person who owes you with killing you," Tyler said. "Doesn't a survivor count?"

"Being killed by a victim will not go well," L'Rell said. "I would go to Gre'thor for it."

"No, you wouldn't," Tyler said.

"I was complicit when I stood by in silence letting Voq take advantage of you" L'Rell said. "I shamed my house greatly during then," L'Rell grew emotional as she went on. "Letting you kill me would dishonor my house. And it would be sweet vengeance for you."

"I don't see why it would," Tyler said.

L'Rell sharply looked up toward Tyler.

"I was Voq's lover!" L'Rell raised her voice.

Tyler stared back at her.

"As you see, I deserve this infliction," L'Rell said. "and I deserve to break the heart of someone. . ." Tyler slid off the edge of the biobed. "Someone who might care about me as I did with Voq when I realized what he had done. . . without your consent." she slowly shook he head. "The house of T'Kuvma has no honor."

"You weren't there," Tyler said.

"Was there a Bat'leth with green stains hanging above you?" L'Rell asked.

"Yes," Tyler said.

"Might as well have been. That was my room. I refused to continue our relationship during the war. We were not as intimate as before," L'Rell explained, as each word dripped with shame and disappointment. "I had to find out by my closest colleagues. I had the opportunity to find discharge on my bed that wasn't there before. I had the opportunity to see you tremble at being touched by the Klingon officers. I had the opportunity to see you flinch at the sight of my captain. I had the opportunity to see the fear, anger, and disgust when you looked at him. I had the opportunity to see the evidence."

"Blaming yourself that wasn't your fault is no way to live," Tyler said.

"How can you say that when I am?" L'Rell asked, baffled.

"I like to see the good in people and judge the chair for myself," Tyler said.

"After all you've gone through," L'Rell said. "You keep a open mind."

"What he did was horrific," Tyler said. "Unforgivable. You could have killed him at any time but your feelings for him stopped you from doing it and his constant group of trusted Klingons would have taken you down without a fight. You were stuck in the middle of something that you can't easily get out of. Which begs me to ask how did you get thrown into the cell? You never answered my question."

"I tried," L'Rell said. "I really tried."

Tyler held his hand out.

"You can redeem yourself by taking the wheels in your new life," Tyler said. "let me help."

"I don't understand how you can be so kind," L'Rell said, taking his hand.

"That's what being human is all about," Tyler said. "just being kind."

Tyler helped her keep her balance as she edged herself to the edge of the biobed. He placed his free hand under her legs then moved her into the hovering wheelchair. Two pairs of binds gripped onto her numb like legs as soon as she sat into it. It was all in all practicality that it was a bulky hoverchair like machine. It had a backpack that could be velcrowed to be closed with pockets to the side for drinks. It was a light gray machine that had a support for the feet. Tyler let go of the consults hand.

"And wearing a red shirt is kind of tempting your early demise," Tyler remarked.

"What's bad about red?" L'Rell said.

"It just does," Tyler said. "you can always go with green. Does help you blend in with the greenery."

* * *

"So that's it?" Tilly asked, seating herself down onto the bed alongside Burnham. The room was dark. As though the night settings had been activated aboard the Discovery. The two Starfleet officers were in their red silk like two piece pajamas. "That is what she was referring to?"

"Indeed," Burnham said.

"I took her legs away," Tilly said. "She is that angry at me?"

Burnham placed a hand onto Tilly's shoulder.

"It wasn't out of anger," Burnham said. "but to make sure she didn't have unfinished business."

"I. . I. . . I haven't killed anyone before," Tilly said.

"Klingons do not normally bestow the honor of allowing a crippled warrior to be killed by a human," Burnham replied. "Most humans who have known to Klingons would be honored. However being thrust with it right after meeting them has never been documented in most cases the humans manage to escape with their lives before the relative arrives," Tilly nodded. "Ashaya, you will care and it will hurt you more than it will hurt her."

"I will manage," Tilly said.

"I will make it even better," Burnham said. "I will be there."

Tilly looked over toward Burnham.

"You better be," Tilly said. "I need my girlfriend for all these Klingon traditions that we have to abide after killing her."

Tilly took Burnham's hand and squeezed it placing her head onto Burnham's lap.

Burnham rubbed Tilly's shoulder, gently.


	22. Wuh tor nam-tor tel-tor's gas'rak el'ru

_wuh tor nam-tor tel-tor's gas'rak el'ru kosu_ = the to be bonded's right hand woman

Tyler turned with folded arms from the direction of the observation windows. He saw the captain in the familiar green shirt that highlighted his muscular figure with broad shoulders. The bright blue eyes contrasting against the nightlights. The bright morning light highlighted the white corridors with a beige like ceiling. Lorca came over to the security officer's side with hands linked behind his back.

"Captain," Tyler said.

"We're off duty," Lorca said. "Call me Gabriel."

"I have gone rusty being away for so long," Tyler shook his head. "You should be sleeping."

"And so should you," Lorca said. "I had a feeling that one of my morning officers wasn't sleeping."

"I see . . . him. . every time I lay on a bed and try to sleep," Tyler said. "The counselor told me that the first step to reclaiming my life is to reclaim the bed."

"You can't put yourself to do it," Lorca said.

"Is there something wrong with me?" Tyler asked. "I feel like there is."

"Everyone has that difficulty after being victimized," Lorca said. "I once knew a victim. Back aboard the Buran."

"How did she do it?" Tyler said.

"She had a cat," Lorca said. "the cat was killed in the explosion."

"Getting myself a pet for emotional support wouldn't be one of Starfleet's priorities," Tyler said.

"Actually, that is not true," Lorca said. Tyler turned his head in the direction of the captain. "come with me."

"All right," Tyler said.

Tyler and Lorca left the observation deck then headed down the corridor passing by several science officers including a sleep walking Lurelle. The two men stopped in their tracks. Lorca tagged after the Andorian then assigned him over to a security officer. Lurelle slumped against the muscular woman's chest as he snored. Lorca dismissed the lieutenant then returned to what he was doing as he dusted his hands off. The two men vanished along the corridor reappearing at the doors to Lorca's cabin. Lorca gestured the man onto the bed. Tyler looked on, confused, but obeyed. Lorca came out of his cabin holding onto something quite large in his arms that was purring loudly. The partial light pouring in to the room allowed him to see that it was furry and brown.

"This is Merkin," Lorca said, placing the tribble onto Tyler's lap.

Tyler looked up toward the captain.

"Do they help you sleep?" Tyler asked.

"They do," Lorca said.

"I feel bad that I am taking your support animal," Tyler said.

"Don't be," Lorca said, gripping the man's shoulder tightly. Lorca watched the wearyiest of smiles grow on the man's face.

"You didn't have to do this," Tyler said.

"You were wandering the halls with a night crew looking to make yourself useful. You are not exactly Superman, Ash," Lorca said. "I used to be that way, though I was always found by Doctor Soval and sometimes confined to my quarters. Good times."

"You're talking about it like it is a good thing," Tyler said.

"It is," Lorca said. "I had read everything aboard this ship when Ephraim gave me Merkin."

Lorca sat down alongside Tyler on the bed.

"Maranville would have liked you," Tyler said.

"Captains can admire the greats from a distance and become great themselves," Lorca said.

"As he did," Tyler said, gently stroking Merkin.

"You can stay in my cabin if you like," Lorca offered. "Seeing a friendly face in his place? Wouldn't that help?" Tyler contemplated

"Gabriel, you need sleep," Tyler said.

"Ellen can take over for me while I catch up on snooze," Lorca said. "she is a competent officer."

"You mean to tell me that you have done this often?" Tyler said.

Lorca turned away from Tyler looking down toward his hands.

"I see it as getting more experience for the bridge on that chair," Lorca said. "Experience she will need to navigate this needless war should I unexpectedly _die_. I don't necessarily intend to stay up late. What I do is watch the news then update my federation chart and see where we're at. I have gone to counseling. Helped me get back onto my feet however fleeting it was not being on a ship." Lorca paused, rubbing his hands looking out toward the window. The stars reflected against his eyes. "Having one hundred thirty-five lives dependent on me. I worry that I won't get them back home alive. Nothing that Merkin can help in. I sometimes find some morning officers sleep walking through my ship then I have to turn them around." Lorca looked over with a smile toward the security officer. "All in a nights work."

* * *

Burnham was cuddling with Tilly in bed who was fast asleep. Burnham had awakened and traced along the larger woman's hand. She was in a very fortunate position. Burnham closed her eyes as a smile grew on her face. Burnham felt along Tilly's right cheek. A smile curled on the woman's almost pink like face. The messy sprawling curls laid on Tilly's shoulder. One of Tilly's hand cupped the other side of her face. The living, growing bond was more than a thread as it had been month ago. It had grown into something beautiful. Just as beautiful as the one she shared with Georgiou. From here, she can sense the admiral's stress and hope. Tilly was the equivalent of a stress free activity that had nothing on its mind.

"Tilly," Burnham said, softly.

"Mmm," Tilly said.

"Would you like to be my Lek Noy?" Burnham asked.

"Mmm, what's that?" Tilly said.

"It is the ancient phrase for best man on Vulcan," Burnham said.

Tilly's eyes briefly opened while patting on the second officer's cheek with her larger hand.

"I would love to be your honor attendant," Tilly said.

"For you information, it shall not go through," Burnham said. "I have a plan."

"Good plans take lots of time and knowing," Tilly said.

"I am quite aware," Burnham said.

"So you're like a psychic?" Tilly asked. "What number am I thinking?"

"Three," Burnham said, raising a eyebrow. Tilly pouted. "I do not need to be psychic to know that you would fight for me."

"I so would," Tilly had a snort like giggle earning a smile back from Burnham.

"Let's hope no one dies because of it," Burnham held her two fingers out for the ensign.

"You're a excellent planner," Tilly said, returning the gesture. "I trust you."

Tilly planted a kiss onto Burnham's cheek.

"T-Tilly," Burnham said, painfully. She clenched her lower torso, wincing.

"What is wrong?" Tilly bolted up, looking down on Burnham.

"Sarek," Burnham said, and with that she lost consciousness.

"Michael?" Tilly said, placing a hand onto Burnham's shoulder. "Michael!" Tilly managed to pick up Burnham, her left hand sliding under her back, and the other under her legs. Tilly speeded out of the shared quarters. "Come on, Michael, stay with me." Tilly increased her speed, panicked and very scared.

* * *

She was soaring through the cosmos away from the Discovery, thousands of light years through space, without any obstacles in the way. Freely going where she was being called. Burnham appeared in the Vulcan embassy. The familiar scenery was slightly comforting. The familiar yellow walls. The holographic figures on the wall displaying historic moments in federation history. She saw several young Vulcan children being given a tour by a tall dark Vulcan with curly hair. Burnham mindlessly walked down the hall headed toward the botanical garden. A very familiar one that she had seen in her youth. Sarek was standing alongside inside the garden with Amanda by his side. Burnham slowly approached the large group.

"Sarek," Amanda said. "You are being modest." she placed a hand onto his chest then lowered it.

"That I am not," Sarek said. "my entry in the annual musician was up to par as many of the attendants."

"You won," Amanda reminded.

"And this is the botantical embassy garden," T'Surak said, leading the group out of the embassy.

Burnham observed that the children were not in brown school outfits but in rather yellow outfits that seemed to be designed in Vulcan Fashion. It almost looked like the child sized sand dunes were walking. Some of the children had slightly rounded ears and some had human like eyebrows. Sarek turned toward the children. A memory took over the scenery. Sarek was watching the young, dark child storm away with hands in fists. Sarek turned his head away in the childhood memory rubbing the side of his forehead as though he had a difficult discussion when in reality that was a discussion about ducks living on Vulcan. It returned to what she had arrived in. She noticed the warm look in the ambassador's eyes.

"Husband," Amanda said, mentally jabbing him in the elbow. "we have children."

"I did not realize we did," Sarek said. "they tend to klingoff me."

"Bad pun, bad pun," Amanda said, shaking her index finger back.

"Is being a Ambassador stressful?" a child asked.

"When it comes to emergencies, it is," Sarek said, as several Vulcan chaperones came toward the Ambassador.

"Sarek," Burnham said. "Why did you bring me here?"

"He already has gray hair," Amanda said. "he just uses the colorizer a lot."

"I do not use the colorizer," Sarek said. "After all, my wife, that is all you."

"Me? Gray?" Amanda said, baffled. "I am too young to be getting gray hair at my age."

"As am I," Sarek replied.

"Vulcans do not get gray until their two hundreds," T'Surak said. "It has been recorded."

"In a few years I will be getting gray before you," Amanda said. "I am going to miss watching you grow gray."

"What makes you think that, my wife?" Sarek asked, alarmed.

"I am only human," Amanda said. "Learn from Ambassador Sarek, children," she kindly directed the comment toward children. "humans can get ill and not come back from it at their advanced age." Sarek tilted his head raising a eyebrow back at the younger human with confusion in his eyes.

It came from behind.

Hot, screaming pain came from the marriage bond.

As though someone had decided to make a boiling dagger and stab it directly into the location where the Vulcan heart was located then twist it repeatedly. Then it was taken out of the injury that bled green blood. A long curved dagger with Klingon like inscriptions fell to the ground. The children were silent as Sarek's free hand came onto the injury. Amanda's look of warm turned into horror. Sarek fell to the ground. Amanda applied pressure to the injury. Burnham clenched onto the side of her waist where the Vulcan heart was located. She leaned forward attempting to keep herself balanced. Burnham had a look of hurt then from behind she overheard Sarek's voice.

"Michael," It was Sarek's distinctive voice.

Burnham shifted toward Sarek who's hand was raised out toward her.

"Father," Burnham said, confused.

Sarek's eyes bore no emotion and his face was well composed given the circumstance.

"I am not taking you with me," Sarek flexed his fingers out sending Burnham flying.


	23. Warranted concern

Burnham regained her senses. She can sense Tilly beside her. The sounds of the medical equipment around her became apparent. The pain from her lower torso had dulled. Her eyes opened to the colorful scenery of sick bay. Burnham's hands were on her lap cupped together. Burnham turned her attention onto the ensign who was leaned forward snoring away. Burnham reached a hand out grabbing onto Tilly's. Tilly's eyes opened then a look of relief replaced her tired demeanor.

"Good morning," Burnham said.

"You've been out cold for a few hours," Tilly said. "I was scared for a moment there that you were not going to wake up."

"A wise figure on Vulcan once said, ' _The only way to defeat fear is by saying no_ '," Burnham said. "' _Faith of the heart keeps one intact and their mind soothed during a difficult time_.'"

Tilly was glowing before Burnham.

"I love it when you say things like that," Tilly said.

"And how is the patient today?" Parchi appeared at the front of the bed.

"Adequate," Burnham said.

"You are on medication for the pseudo pain your father gave you," Parchi said.

"He is alive," Burnham said. "I can feel him."

"Recipient of a Vulcan Soul-Graft, I don't doubt that," Parchi said. "one and only so far in recent years." Parchi checked the woman's vitals then jotted down on the padd. "Doctor Soval is busy with a operation. Lab 3 had a bad accident." Parchi looked over toward the women. "He will be out in the next thirty minutes give or take to discharge you."

Parchi left the two as Burnham turned her attention toward Tilly.

* * *

Vulcan family bonds were different from any other kind of bond in Vulcan society. Different than a bond shared with a pet, different with a bond shared between two children engaged at the age of seven, katras bound to each other in any life time, and a bonded Vulcan couple. Vulcans were capable of feeling the losses of many of their own at a time of crisis happened. Four hundred, a thousand, and a million. Family bonds were different. One could not feel what they were feeling, whether they were in pain, and hear their thoughts. It was a constant presence in the mind. Vulcans were unique in this aspect with their various types of bonds that connected one person to the other.

Vulcan bonds were public knowledge as much as other telepathic species. The general fact of a Vulcan sharing a part of their soul with a human was even more common knowledge. Vulcans kept back somethings regarding their culture from the general public. Secrets they would take to their katra receptacles or to the great beyond. Burnham, even as a human who lived among them, would do the same. She had taken a vow of secrecy. Something that she could only tell in extreme emergencies. She came out of the mess hall then encountered the captain who did not seem to be happy.

"Is this about my request for shore leave?" Burnham asked.

"Yes," Lorca said. "It's about your family. And Ensign Tilly."

Burnham raised a eyebrow.

"Captain?" Burhham said, tilting her head.

"Tilly just sent me a request for shore leave," Lorca said.

"I did not ask her or give her any ideas," Burnham said.

"I know Sarek has been attacked at the embassy," Lorca said. "you could have been more subtle regarding your decision. We don't need crew morale going into jeopardy because two officers are taking shore leave while they don't."

"Captain, you are fully capable of refusing that request," Burnham said.

"Yes, yes," Lorca said, with a sigh. "would you?"

"We're at war," Burnham said.

"That is not a answer," Lorca said.

"It is," Burnham said. "The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few."

"So that is your answer," Lorca said.

"Aye," Burnham said, with a nod.

Lorca stepped aside.

"Off you go," Lorca said. "and if Tilly is there, make sure she doesn't go with you."

"That I will," Burnham said, with a nod then made her way down the corridor.


	24. Tor wuh ek'tra vuhlkansu nash-veh hal-to

_To the planet Vulcan I go_ =tor wuh ek'tra Vuhlkansu nash-veh hal-tor

"Hey lover girl," Tilly said, as Burnham entered the shuttle bay. Tilly was apparently nervous with her sleeves rolled up, wiping her hands repeatedly on her pants, and her typical bun hair style was different in a way that it was a ponytail. As though Tilly had repeatedly changed her hair style from the last time Burnham had seen her. "Ready to go?"

"I believe you have forgotten something," Burnham said, approaching Tilly.

"Got my Vulcan-sand proof robes, got my boots, and got my girlfriend," Tilly said. "Yes, I am going with you and I love to meet the people who raised a amazing person," Tilly took Burnham's hands then rubbed the woman's wrist. "I expected to meet them much later in our relationship, as friends or lovers, this will do."

"Tilly," Burnham said, slipping her hand out of the ensign's grip. "this is my family," she placed a hand on the woman's shoulder. "As much as I like you to meet them. . ." she shook her head. "war is not the best time to meet the parents."

"Your previous boyfriend told me otherwise," Tilly said. "and he is a engineer technician."

"I was joking," Burnham said. "I did not expect him to be aboard the same ship as I."

"You're stuck with me whether you like it or not," Tilly said.

Burnham observed the taller woman.

"As you wish," Burnham said.

Tilly hugged Burnham.

"I love you," Tilly said, with her hands on Burnham's back.

Burnham briefly closed her eyes moving her fingers along to the ensign's neck.

"Taluhk nash-veh du," Burnham said, then applied the nerve pinch.

Tilly slumped in Burnham's arms.

* * *

Sarek was in a healing trance laid on the biobed. Amanda was seated by his side. As she had always been in their relationship when it came to the worst and to the best. The guilt dripping from Sarek was consistent starting from stardate 2249 and it had not been explained since then. Dropping Spock out of their life was a straw that send Amanda away for a year and upon her return find the house crowded with Vulcan hybrids ranging in age. In private, she held on to Sarek's hand. It felt like weeks ago had she been with Sarek in the embassy in front of children. The children did not react to the fall of Sarek. They simply watched him fall to the ground and watched Amanda tend to her bondmate. She looked up from Sarek's hand to see a familiar figure enter the recovery room.

A smile grew on Amanda's face.

"Michael," Amanda said.

"Greetings, mother," Burnham said, with hands linked behind her back.

"I love your new hair style," Amanda said. "it looks good on you."

"Just what my girlfriend told me," Burnham said.

"Spill the beans," Amanda said.

"She is a ensign," Burnham said. "engineering officer."

"You have a thing for engineers," Amanda said. "Admit it."

"They are very interesting people," Burnham said, coming over to the chair across Sarek. "Not as interesting as Admiral Georgiou."

"She is a unique woman," Amanda said, fondly.

"Did you see the attacker?" Burnham asked.

"Not at all," Amanda said. "I should have seen them."

Burnham looked down toward Sarek.

"He showed me the attack," Burnham said, sitting down into the chair. "There were chaperones."

"Some Vulcans do not like what Sarek does," Amanda said. "They wouldn't launch a attack in the Embassy."

"They had a suicide bomber in the Vulcan Learning Center," Burnham said. "if they can do that, then they can do it anywhere."

"Vulcan logic extremists favor being explosive," Amanda said. "Logically, they could not have been part of the attack."

"Your logic is sound," Burnham said.

"The children are being taken care of by Aunt Shorouk and her partner," Amanda said. "They understand that I need to be alone."

"Not completely alone, mother," Burnham replied, as Amanda met Burnham's eyes.

"Sarek is proud of you," Amanda said. "You should see his collection of Spock's achievements."

"I know," Burnham said, allowing the littlest of emotion to be revealed with a thin smile.

* * *

It had been a hour since Burnham's arrival to Vulcan. One hour of spending time with her adoptive parents. She was in her Vulcan robes that fitted her form. They were a shade of purple. The color that she enjoyed, personally, as a aesthetic at night from a neon sign. It was one of the colors that Burnham had appreciated from the exterior of the USS Shenzhou. She appreciate the times when sights of science was enveloped in shades of glowing purple; a color that she really liked. The Embassy had parts sealed off where the culprit had been said to flee and determined to have gone. Her Starfleet uniform was underneath the Vulcan robes. It felt more as a war uniform than a explorer one. The Federation embassy was still the way it had been in her previous visit in Sarek's recount of events.

The painstaking detail of the yellow walls was very familiar. It was popcorn like in shape yet it was gritty and rough like sand paper. The yellow was mundane and static, different from the color yellow, in ways that she did not understand then but understood now. The color was logical. A color that she had seen early in her childhood commonly when Sarek was on diplomatic business and his assistant took care of her while she studied Surak's teachings. The kind of familiarity that someone would have with a old friend. The amount of times she visited the embassy was enough that it had no part in her education. It had been a familiar place. Her parents had been friends with Sarek and had taken the Vulcan outpost as a living station because it had cutting edge scientific equipment. Her parents were gleeful to say for the least. She looked over toward the wall where it showed Sarek and her parents, Michael Burnham, and Angela Burnham. Her name was not always Michael.

Sarek had bestowed her the name in honor of her father per Vulcan tradition to rename a child after losing their family and into the care of a new one entirely. Back then she used to be someone else entirely. Different person. Different appearance with naturally curly hair. She got it from Michael. Michael the slim shouldered man compared to the broad shouldered taller woman. Burnham had a fond smile in her mind at it. She still had curly hair. A hairstyle that she let be the way it was rather than be straightened as it was on the Shenzhou. A sense of professionalism and stoic demeanor to her. Burnham turned her attention away then came over to the holographic yellow tape in front of the botanical doorway. The familiar greenery set about the scenery.

Burnham noticed Starfleet figures around the crime scene. As though they had recently arrived themselves. Burnham recognized Admiral Anderson and Admiral Terral. She stopped in front of the doorway. Almost on cue Admiral Anderson looked over toward her then back toward Terral sharing a short lived nod. The two admirals were in golden uniforms with the Starfleet regulated black pants. The long boots that reached up under the pant legs. Terral came toward Burnham a a slow pace.

"Commander Burnham," Terral said. "The Discovery's help is not needed."

"I am not here as part of the Discovery," Burnham said. "I come here as part of the S'chn T'gai clan."

"We are handling this," Terral said.

"Admirals don't usually come to where a assassination attempt was made," Burnham said.

"That is logical," Terral said. "this, however, is not."

Burnham tilted her head with a eyebrow raise.

"How so?" Burnham asked.

"Your father is in some business that Starfleet does not wish to talk about," Terral said.

"Is it the Romulan double life issue?" Burnham asked. "I knew it would catch up with him but during the war I did not ex-"

"Hold," Terral said, holding his hand up. "Repeat that first part."

"Romulan double life issue," Burnham repeated.

"Sarek would never do that," Terral said. "we would have known. He is not a spy."

Burnham sighed shaking her head.

"It is for Romulan-Vulcan unification," Burnham said.

"What?" Terral asked, his voice hitting a low flat note.

"He has been doing it since I was a child under the alias Keras through holographic technology," Burnham explained. "Highly Advanced Technology I do not know where he gets it from. It is very convincing that he is there out there in Romulan Space when he is not."

"Looks as though Sarek has some explaining to do to Starfleet behind close doors," Terral said. "And it is not that. And it is none of your concern."

"Understood," Burnham said.

"We can't find the culprit," Terral said. "It is like they vanished into thin air."

"Or they blended in," Burnham said. "It was not Vulcan."

"I was dreading that," Terral said. "it couldn't have been the logic extremists."

"It wasn't," Burnham said. "It could have been a Romulan or someone disguised to look Vulcan."

"Clever," Terral said. "a quick get away. Wasn't the chaperones." he shook his head. "We're at a dead end."

"That is all the speculating I will make for this culprit, Admiral Terral," Burnham said.

"Good," Terral said. "Do not attempt to become part of this investigation."

"I am not interested," Burnham said, then held up the ta'al. "Live long and prosper."

"Peace and long life," Terral reciprocated then watched her walk away.


	25. tor wuh fosh nash-veh du

_To the defense I go_ = tor wuh fosh nash-veh du

"I appreciate your willingness to meet here, Commander," came the voice of a male Vulcan.

"I had no choice, T'Shal," Burnham said. "You claimed to know the assassin."

"Quite well," T'Shal said. "Not much of a mutual."

"Spill it," Burnham requested.

"Your father adopted T'Shay," T'Shal said. "it was a controversial move due to T'Shay's past."

"I am aware of it," Burnham said. "A genetically altered child purposely edited to take out fatal genes and replaced with healthy ones. The race that father had been in was sound and logical, property of a priest, doomed to live a life not treated well, and his Vulcan heritage does not make it controversial."

"That child is half Klingon," T'Shal said. "edited after birth."

"What good would a child have part of the war?" Burnham asked. "Nothing."

"He is T'Kuvma's son," T'Shal said. "So you see, your adopted sibling could end the war. The Federation wants to return the child to T'Kuvma's relative, Voq, and negotiate a treaty."

"Sarek said no," Burnham said.

"Sarek said _yes_ ," T'Shal said. "He was going to hand the child over to the Shenzhou. With this attack, this throws everything into jeopardy."

"Sarek would not let a adopted child return to a threatening life that they had been rescued from," Burnham said.

"Being a servant is less threatening than being among Klingons and living in a pacifist society," T'Shal said. "If anything . . . there is Vulcan security guards posted at the S'chn T'gai clan home and they can't protect a household from a bunch of Klingons. If the Klingons wanted, they would send in a Romulan assassin and have everyone-" T'Shal was smacked against the wall with Burnham's arm under his chin pressed against his neck. "inside slaughtered."

"Tell me their name," Burnham said.

* * *

The final slap stirred Sarek awake. Sarek's eyes opened to the familiar, stagnate color of the recovery room. Towering over him as Amanda prepared to slap him again. Sarek grabbed a hold of her wrist. The woman was startled at first, however she visibly relaxed. The concern faded from her side of the bond. Relief traveled through their shared bond as husband and wife from Amanda's side.

"Enough, Amanda," Sarek said, then gently let go of the woman's small wrist.

"Sarek," Amanda said, seating herself down.

"My wife, how long have you been awake?" Sarek asked.

"All night," Amanda said.

"You must rest," Sarek said, earning a bemused look.

"I will rest when you're holding me," Amanda said. "No rest for the wicked."

"You are not wicked," Sarek held his two fingers out. "you are the most extraordinary linguistic on Vulcan and the most sublime creature I met."

Amanda completed the ozh'esta.

"It is good to have you back," Amanda said, Sarek raised a eyebrow.

"I never left," Sarek said.

"Michael told me you were thinking otherwise," Amanda said. "Why did you call for her?"

"It was a Klingon dagger," Sarek said. "It was my intention that you had someone be there for you should I not wake up," he briefly sighed. "It was wishful thinking that Captain Lorca not be in the middle of a battle."

"She came," Amanda said, earning a tilt of his head. "You called at the right time, my husband."

"Where is she?" Sarek asked.

"Visiting the Federation Embassy," Amanda said.

Sarek visibly shuddered as though bothered.

"Do the others know?" Sarek inquired.

"They do now," Amanda said, as Sarek placed his hand onto his face. "Your assistant is dealing with your inbox."

"Why did I adopt so many children?" Sarek said, lifting his hand off his face.

"Because you care," Amanda said.

"This is one of those times where I wish that the Vulcan myth that we have no emotions was not a myth," Sarek said.

"Sarek," Amanda said. "if it were ever true. . . You would not be you."

"And I without you," Sarek said

"You silly Vulcan," Amanda said. "No matter how different you are, you will always have me."

"My greatest weakness has lead to my assistant being subject to hundreds of messages," he lowered his hand. "News travels fast in Starfleet." he shook his head. "They all go into Starfleet. . ." His gaze fixated onto his hands. "I believe T'Shay will not get to experience that." the last part came out defeatedly.

Amanda placed her hand into Sarek's.

"We will get through it together, husband," Amanda said.

* * *

The house of the S'chn T'gai clan was set on a cliff.

To most humans, it was much like a multi-generational vacation house that had the scenic view.

There were hover motorcycles parked in front of the facility.

A lone hovering motorcycle came to a stop in front of the household.

Two well-armored Vulcan security officers were set at the front door.

The lone figure took off their helmet then the goggles.

Pointy curled ears were evident and human slanted eyebrow was even more shocking than a visitor. The helmet was placed on to the seat of the seat. This was Bondeth, a well respected individual in the Federation. Bondeth climbed up the stairs with hands linked behind her back. She had a dagger in one hand. Bondeth unsheathed the dagger then stabbed it into the first security officer's torso. Bondeth knocked down the second officer. She made three more stab wounds into the Vulcan officer. He fell to his side with a groan as she turned toward the scrambling Vulcan. The second security officer picked up the phaser then fired at Bondeth. Bondeth took out her phaser then fired a hole into the Vulcan's torso. The Vulcan fell freely bleeding out green blood on the porch. Bondeth came to the threshold placing a small device on to the wall. The door opened as she put the dagger into the sheath.

Bondeth was greeted by a growling Sehlat at the stairs that lead downstairs. It lunged toward the assassin. She aimed with precision at the forehead. The Sehlat crashed to the floor landing on its side with a loud thud. Several Vulcan security officers appeared from both ways. In loud phaser blasts, the four Vulcans collapsed to the ground. Bondeth made her way down the stairs, slowly and steadily. There were lots of rooms. There was uncomfortable silence in the halls. She took out a padd then put it back heading down the corridor. Inside help done a lot to finding the target. She came into a bedroom. A a blue, yet bald child with antennas was seated in a meditation pose on a mat. This was easy. Just like she wanted it to be. The likeness of the child with her employer was evident. Only more at peace. She raised her phaser at T'Shay's head.

"Q'apla!" Bondeth said. "Mar'qus, son of Voq, house of T'Kuvma."

There was a click from behind Bondeth.

"Lower your phaser," Burnham said. "now," she was behind the Romulan with the phaser pressed against the taller woman's back. "Or," she trailed the phaser up to the back of the Romulan's head. "I will blow your head off if you press that trigger."

"You wouldn't," Bondeth said, with a snicker. "Vulcans don't kill."

"Unfortunately for you," Burnham said. "I am not. Lower your phaser."

"My employer does not want a liability walking around," Bondeth said. "you know as I do that I can't come out of this alive as well the child."

"His name is T'Shay, clan of S'chn T'gai, house of Sarek," Burnham said. "and he is my little brother."

"Schrodinger's shoot out," Bondeth said. "How comical to go. Here I thought I would go out in a blaze of glory."

"You still can have it by lowering your phaser," Burnham said. "Enough people like you have died today."

"The good die young," Bondeth said. "only the bad die old."

Burnham shook her head.

"Not true," Burnham said. "It's the good who die old and the bad who die young."

"You're biased," Bondeth retorted.

Engulfed into strange orange light that had different shades, Bondeth pressed the trigger except the phaser did not fire. When she reappeared, her phaser broke into several pieces. Burnham quickly came over then applied the Vulcan nerve pinch to the side of her neck. Bondeth collapsed to the floor. Burnham looked over in the direction of Georgiou.

"Philippa," Burnham said.


	26. A familiar face

"It is good to see you again," Georgiou said.

Burnham can feel the admiral's genuine, less energetic joy. It was what made her different from Tilly. Her joy was different. As is joy when it comes to different people. It wasn't like a party being thrown and there were not too many people participating. The joy was comfortable radiating off the woman. It was also less loud. The commander relaxed shedding the briefest of smiles toward the admiral. It was good to see Georgiou again in the flesh. Burnham stepped aside from the would-be-assassin.

"You look well," Burnham said.

"You look even better," Georgiou said. "you're the one who hasn't gotten gray hair." Burnham raised a eyebrow.

"The gray goes great with your aesthetic," Burnham said. "If I were a knight, I would be pleased to serve a queen like you." The familiar, bright hopeful smile reappeared on the Admiral's face. Burnham admired the well aging woman.

Georgiou's eyes drifted down toward the fallen Romulan.

"I take it that this is the one who attempted to take Sarek's life," Georgiou said, then looked over toward the second officer.

"Yes, Admiral," Burnham said. "This is Bondeth of the T'Tea house."

"I have heard of her," Georgiou said. "A fierce advocate for assisted suicide."

"Assisted with consent she has not," Burnham said.

The camera panned over toward the collapsed would be assassin. Her dark outfits colors were revealed to be dark green. She wore black gloves that lacked fingers. Her ears had golden piercings that were twisted with small bright gems inside. Two security officers lifted the woman to her feet then applied a set of cuffs to her hands behind her back. Bondeth's eyes slowly opened noticing that she was in a colorful room. It dawned on her where she was. Georgiou turned in the direction of the woman with her hands behind her back.

"I am Admiral Georgiou," Georgiou said. "You will face a fair trial, maximum security prison, and a life behind bars for the attempted murder of Ambassador Sarek. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you."

"And the attempted murder of T'Shay," Burnham added. "She murdered six security officers."

"This war will never end," Bondeth said. "there will be more assassins when word gets out that I failed."

"Hold onto that thought," Georgiou said. "what if it doesn't?"

"Your government is not known to be discreet and private regarding trials," Bondeth said.

"We had a trial recently about a admiral who committed treason," Georgiou said. There were looks of confusion at the announcement. Security officers looked at the admiral oddly, Burnham raised both eyebrows, and Bondeth wore a look of disbelief. "the rogue Klingons underestimate us. Take Miss Bondeth to the brig."

"Aye, Admiral," came the reply.

Bondeth was guided out of the transporter room.

"It appears I need to go down to Vulcan with you, Michael," Georgiou said. "About time I met your mother."

"Better late than never," Burnham said, then came onto the circular part of the padd and the Admiral joined her side. "Are you going to inform your first officer?"

"Mr Saru has been a excellent first officer," Georgiou said. "He can handle being in the orbit of Vulcan for a few hours," she turned with a smile toward the transporter chief. "energize."


	27. Hard choices come with pain

The motorcycle came to a stop in front of the house.

Amanda was the first to slid off the motorcycle once it parked.

Sarek came off the motorcycle afterwards.

The two bondmates came up the stairs.

There were two Vulcans stationed side by side on each side of the door with linked hands behind their back. The door automatically opened before the two then they went in ignoring the security officers. Amanda came to his side. They heard the voices of women from the adjoining room. Sarek and Amanda exchanged puzzled looks. They came to the threshold of the living room to see there were dozens of their adopted children listening intently to Burnham and Georgiou. Amanda grew a smile on her face wrapping her hands along Sarek's shoulder. Sarek noticed that Burnham's was tightly clenching her wrist laid on her lap. Burnham turned her attention toward Sarek.

 _It's time_ , _father_ , Sarek heard her voice in his mind as though she were face to face with him.

Sarek briefly closed his eyes then reopened them.

"And then Michael flipped off the Orion," Georgiou finished.

"I did not flip them off," Burnham replied. "I gave them the sign they feel more expresses peace."

"You gave them the middle finger," Georgiou said, with one hand on the side of her thigh looking over toward the woman.

"It gave the message that we failed to get across initially," Burnham supplied.

Georigiou shook her head then turned her attention on toward the several children and her eyes landed on Sarek. Amanda had unwrapped her hand from around the older man's shoulder.

"Michael will finish the story," Georgiou said.

"Aye, Admiral," Burnham said, earning giggles from the pre-teens.

Georgiou made her way toward the two highly respected individuals in the Federation.

"Amanda Grayson, S'chn T'gai Sarek," Georgiou smoothly pronounced his clan name. "I am Philippa." She held her hand out.

"You are as gorgeous as she says," Amanda said, shaking Georgiou's hand. "the woman who stole my Mikey's heart."

"That is most unfortunate," Sarek said.

"Sarek," Amanda said, as the hand shake ended. She gave a chastising look back. "Don't say that."

"No, it is understood," Georgiou said. "I am older than her."

"It is not that," Sarek said.

"Then what is it?" Georgiou asked.

"It is that she is experiencing her bethrothed's urge and there is a chance you may not be unable to attend the ceremony due to other matters that bring you here." Georgiou raised her eyebrow then shifted toward Burnham. She turned toward the two. "I assume you cannot stay long."

Georgiou wore a knowing look.

"I had all the time before the war," Georgiou said. "and now it is dwindling. T'Shay won't end the war. Option is off the table."

"Is our agreement still on?" Sarek asked.

"You can still make your goodbyes," Georgiou said. "and then we go to some allies."

"You mean Koloth," Sarek said.

"Yes," Georgiou said.

"Attend to T'Shay's belongings, my wife," Sarek requested.

"Yes, my husband," Amanda said, then left his side.

"How long do you have to spare?" Sarek asked.

"A hour on Vulcan," Georgiou said.

* * *

T'Shay sat on the edge of the ready made bed. Amanda left Sarek then headed down the stairs. Sarek sighed looking over toward the door to the bedroom. He walked toward the door. The door automatically opened before the Ambassador allowing him into the room. T'Shay was fumbling his fingers together with antennas aimed down. Sarek sat down next to the child. Sarek looked down toward the blue hybrid. He was a child of two words. Two worlds that he could not call home. Just like Spock. The parallels were uncanny. Not wanted by Andoria's people and seen as a liability from Qo'nos. T'Shay looked over toward the Vulcan with his antennas turning toward him.

"You don't like me?" T'Shay asked.

"It is not because I like you that we are sending you away," Sarek said. "It is for your safety."

"My sister can protect me," T'Shay said.

"She will not always be there," Sarek said.

"Then her partner," T'Shay said.

"They are part of a war, T'Shay," Sarek said. "In war, the chances of survival are slim. Starfleet and the Federation have the chance of losing."

"So you believe it is logical to send me to other people more capable of protecting me?" T'Shay asked.

"When one cares about their adoptive child and does not wish for their death . . ." Sarek said. "Their logic is uncertain when it comes to them."

"I do not want to go," T'Shay said.

"According to Klingon biology, you shall grow up quickly to a warrior and protect yourself," Sarek said. "You will not need to be protected by others."

"I don't want to be a warrior," T'Shay said. "I wish to be a explorer."

"You can be both," Sarek suggested.

T'Shay looked over toward the duffle bag beside him then toward his hands as his antennas followed.

"I don't want to hurt people," T'Shay admitted.

There was silence between the two.

"Have you heard of Indiana Jones?" Sarek asked.

"No," T'Shay sad.

"A great man," Sarek said. "He wished to bring artifacts to the museum. He had to hurt people to get what he wanted."

"Did he want to hurt people?" T'Shay asked.

"No one wants to hurt others when doing the right thing in the beginning," Sarek said. "He suffered betrayal, heartbreak, and loss. . . Yet, he did not give up being a rescuer of the artifacts." Sarek placed a hand on T'Shay's shoulder. "If Indiana Jones never defended himself then no one would have been able to see historic artifacts."

"I think I see," T'Shay said.

"Killing should be the last thing you do, T'Shay," Sarek said. "When there is no option on the table. Only then does violence come in."

T'Shay sighed then looked over toward the Ambassador.

"Can I keep my name?" T'Shay asked. "You've been the kindest family I had. Only family I had. And please, stay, for a few more minutes. . . Just a little longer."

"As you wish," Sarek replied.

* * *

Burnham was in her old bedroom in deep meditation. Georgiou looked on with concern toward the woman. She held her communicator in one hand as she slowly stepped away from the doorway. The door closed to the bedroom. She came over to the center of the corridor. She sighed, placing her back against the wall and folded her arms. Saru's voice came out of the small device.

"Captain, I expected your return two hours ago," Saru said, with a click.

"You can relax, Number One," Georgiou said. "We are leaving Vulcan as scheduled with our passenger."

"Not on schedule," Saru said. "we were supposed to be headed to the meeting point."

"Consider that meet point void," Georgiou said. "Plans have changed. We are initiating Plan Koloth."

"Aye, Admiral," Saru said.

"Any news that I missed?" Georgiou asked.

"The Discovery sent a message one hour ago that they were engaged in a heavy fire fight above a Dilithium Mining Colony. A few minutes ago we received a update that they are performing repairs and the battle is over. Lorca wishes for a message to be handed down to his second officer to meet up in one day at Starbase 46." Saru said. The sounds of clicking coming on and off the informative reply. "Admiral, do we have another route to go in ending the war?"

"Yes," Georgiou said. "we do." She briefly closed her eyes then reopened them. "I will inform you in the ready room in thirty-two minutes. Georgiou out."

* * *

Twenty minutes came and went for the household of Sarek.

A loud mound was made in the backyard.

There was a Vulcan tree sapling planted into the mound.

The view returned into the large, partially submerged house.

Sarek and T'Shay were coming down the stairs. Burnham's hands were linked behind her back standing along the side of Amanda. Georgou was in front of the doorway with her hands linked behind her back. The children were scattered about the household studying their graded homework. A medium puffy bear yet lion like cub waddled down the hall chased by The'lik. The'lik came to a stop picking up the mewing cub. The'lik came to a pause at the bottom of the stairs.

"Dif-tor heh smusma, sibling," T'Shay said, giving the ta'al sign.

"Sochya eh dif," The'lik said, returning the gesture.

T'Shay turned her attention onto Amanda.

"Mother," T'Shay said, as the woman knelt down toward him. "When I see you and father again, I will have repaid you."

"You do not need to repay us," Amanda said. "You have repaid us every day."

"I wish to became someone great as the two of you," T'Shay said.

"You need not," Amanda said. "You have already achieved that."

T'Shay hugged Amanda, tightly.

Slowly, Amanda ended the hug and his grip loosened. He let go of the colorful dress then came over toward Burnham. Burnham's mental shields lowered as did T'Shay. Burnham and T'Shay stared at each other in silence for a few minutes. Burnham's facial expression did not change. Then they raised their mental shields at once. T'Shay walked over toward Georgiou then gave her the nod. He slid back up the strap to his duffle bag. Georgiou looked over toward Burnham who seemed to remain motionless. Whatever the urge was doing to her, she was keeping the facade that nothing was wrong.

It was very alarming for Georgiou. The way Burnham kept to herself seemed that something was wrong. She had been extremely Vulcan like in the beginning of their friendship. Burnham had evolved into a person who balanced her emotions not as rigidly as Vulcans did and yet human at the same time. It must be very nerve wrecking on her to keep this up and extremely necessary. Georgiou held her hand out for T'Shay. They walked out of the household. The door automatically opened before them. Georgiou took out her gold and black communicator once they went down the stairs.

"Georgiou to Shenzhou, two to beam up," Georgiou said.

They were outlined and engulfed in orange shades of light. The classic melody of the transporter filled their ears. Their surroundings changed from the hot, sandy scenery to the purple scenery.


	28. Going on a date with fate

"T'Pau has requested that the Discovery be in orbit in less than a week," Lorca said. "I don't know about you, Ellen, but the whole ordering Ensign Tilly to attend a some Vulcan ceremony after sending my second officer down there is suspicious."

"She is her grandmother," Landry said. "and it could be exactly what she asked of you earlier."

"Perhaps," Lorca said. "Life or death over a ceremony. . ." he shook his head. "I don't like it."

"Neither do I," Landry said.

"How long will it take for the repairs in the hull?" Lorca asked.

"Minor repairs will take at least two days," Landry said. "Major would take a week."

"Alright," Lorca said. "We can be late by two days."

"Captain, we should at least inform Ensign Tilly," Landry said.

"At the last minute," Lorca said. "We don't need a distracted Starfleet Officer to make a mistake,He knew how they walked and even met with them on a mission or two, now do we?"

"No," Landry said.

"Then you tell her before we do the jump," Lorca said. "You're better at that," he looked on ahead brightening up. "Hey Ash!" He walked ahead leaving the first officer alone.

* * *

Georgiou came to the communication officer's side then leaned onto the black strip of the console.

"Ensign Uhura, inform the USS Shran that we will be on our way to the meeting," Georgiou said.

The dark young woman with gorgeous earrings simply nodded.

"Aye, captain," Uhura said.

"Afterwards. . ." Georgiou said. "hail Captain Koloth and inform him that we will be on our way in the hour."

Georgiou turned toward the science station half of the bridge where Saru and T'Shay were sitting.

There was undeniable silence coming from the two.

Aside from the occasional clicking coming here and there in the past two days had been pleasant.

It was almost as though a entity haunted that side of the bridge.

If Georgiou was prodded about having Saru being in the company of a child, she would describe it as a relaxing experience during war. The child's presence had lifted the crew morale in the past two days. She can sense their renewed energy at ending the war. Every day there was victories from the side of the Federation and then there were loses. They had lost colonies yet they gained orphans. They were currently being cared for by several volunteering Vulcan and Andorian families. Saru felt the admiral's eyes laid on him. He turned his attention toward the Admiral. There was a look in her eyes that easily said that the time had come. He turned in the direction of the child seated next to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. T'Shay looked up in the direction of the captain as Saru knowingly turned his gaze toward the child.

* * *

Koloth sat at a table playing with a twirling, rounded silver item.

Each time it fell, he flipped it up and watched it twirl.

A body flew over the table missing the twirling item.

He was in a bar that was bustling with activity. Behind him there were a pair of Thans having a bar fight. Klingons were staying out of the war as it was, per se, dishonorable. There was honesty in it. It was a bunch of radicals and extremists, terrorists, fighting against the Federation. It seemed that one percent of their civilization had bigger backing than they had originally thought. He had gotten rid of his baldric as soon as the war had started. He donned on a shirt made of gold, a long sleeved simple dark blue turtle neck, black pants with golden sparkles, and a long black pants with a Klingon disruptor belt that had a pocket at the back for a D'k tahg. Contrary to the heavy armor lacking a baldric. He looked up as silence took over the room. There was a Kelpien in a dark outfit that made him seem menacing. His threat ganglia came out.

 _Great, just what I needed,_ Koloth thought.

All the attention, on him. And it had to be Starfleet. Staring at a Klingon with a smooth forehead. It occurred to him what he had told them. His eyes slightly widened then returned to their normal size. They were still under the impression that he was in the command of a Bird Of Prey as a Captain. A lie he had spun while his commanding officer was down below going on a mission to rescue his wife. Oh boy, did he screw up. He stopped spinning the item as the Starfleet officer came toward his table. The way Saru walked and presented himself screamed Starfleet. He knew how they walked and even met with them on a mission or two. Saru walked toward the Klingon. Koloth straightened up in his chair then gestured toward the seat.

"Come, sit," Koloth said, with a smile.

"Captain," Saru said. "I am not here for drinks."

"Then what else did you come here for?" Koloth said. "You said not in public."

"We were attacked on the way here," Saru said.

"We?" Koloth asked, puzzled. "There is only one of you."

"Two," Saru said, as he revealed the inside of his long trench coat. "T'Shay."

"Hello," Koloth said, as he recognized the child. "This is Voq's child."

"And he wants him dead," Saru said, as he drew the coat back.

"Oh," Koloth said, looking back toward the first officer. "So that is what brought you here. . ." he glared at the Kelpien. "Speaking of which, your superior officer. ."

"We are at _war_ , Captain," Saru reminded Koloth. "She cannot afford to break rules."

"So you came in her stead," Koloth said.

"It was the only choice," Saru said. "I must make sure the child is handed over to a crew you trust to be taken to safety."

"Why doesn't Starfleet use other avenues?" Koloth asked.

"Starfleet has gone through that and decided, if the rogue Klingons got their way, they would find T'Shay easily and kill him," Saru said, with a click. "Should you have been planning to take a Starfleet officer hostage then you will be severely disappointed."

Koloth took a drink from his glass then turned his attention onto the first officer.

"I will help you," Koloth said, then he held his index finger up. "On the condition that you give me at one hour to gather my crew."

"That is acceptable," Saru said. "We will be at the carnival awaiting your coordinates to your ship."

"Good place for the child to spend his remaining days in the Federation," Koloth said, with a smile.

* * *

Tilly adjusted the red dress uniform to her figure for what was the thirty-fifth time. She pried off the velcro then reapplied it once more. She straightened the dress uniform then came over to the computer. She tapped on the screen following the path to the mirror option. A mirror image of Tilly appeared across mimicking her movements. She came to the side of the computer then observed herself. Her curly hair in a bun, dark bellbottoms, and her rosy cheeks stared back at her.

Tilly relaxed with her hands linked behind her back and then her face turned from unsure to a emotionless mask.

"You look good, Sylvia," Tilly said, in a emotionless manner. "There is no need for you to re-organize yourself every five minutes."

Tilly nodded as the facade vanished off her face.

"Hell yes!" Tilly said. "I do look good!"

Tilly sighed and the mask came back.

"Now go out that door and be my Lek Noy at my wedding ceremony," Tilly said. "I await for you at the appointed place."

Tilly's happy demeanor came back.

"Anything, bestie," Tilly said.

* * *

The shuttle craft returned from Vulcan piloted by a security officer.

Tilly's hands were fidgeting. She had to touch something and fiddle with it.

This was her first wedding ceremony that wasn't featuring her family or having a companion.

The last wedding she had attended last year was her Aunt. Her Aunt had divorced her husband and married another in favor of a Andorian couple. The ceremony had been unique. The final bonding itself was done in private away after marrying the human way. So many Andorian men and women around her age were in attendance including well aged individuals. It wasn't a surprise to find elders in attendance. Her Aunt was dressed well in a dress that was themed in various shades of pink. Fancy and majestic just as the way that Andrea Tilly lived. So far, Andrea was very happy with her three partners and raising her newborn. Something that her previous husband had been unable to give her.

"Need a friend to go along with you?" Culber's voice came from behind Tilly.

Tilly turned in the direction of the doctor. Culber was in a formal variation of his medical blues.

"Yes!" Tilly said. "I never attended a Vulcan bonding ceremony before."

"Vulcan bonding ceremony?" Culber said.

"Uh huh," Tilly said.

"Tilly. . ." Culber started, in concern as Stamets came from behind heading into the shuttle bay. "You do realize that you may need to watch them consummate the bonding right then and there?"

"Wait, what?" Tilly said.

"Sex," Culber repeated.

"Oooh, that," Tilly said. "Don't worry about it," she shook her hand. "It won't go that far. She got a plan."

"What kind of plan?" Stamets asked. "Is there going to be Vulcan alcohol? Plomeek cake? Plomeek icicles? Vulcan singing? I am all in for it!"

"Vulcan is too hot for that, honey," Culber said.

"You never know what is possible at a Vulcan ceremony," Stamets said. "they could be held anywhere."

"Like in the middle of a desert?" Tilly asked.

"Yes," the two men said.

"Remember the last ceremony that we had to attend?" Stamets asked.

"Yes, yes, I do," Culber said. "You got the groom drunk."

"And we had the greatest debate about cremating and letting mushrooms break down the body after death," Stamets said, handing Culber a knapsack. "The most fun I had at a colleague's wedding."

"I hope this ceremony goes off smoothly like yours," Tilly said.

"Given this is Burnham, it might go off without a hitch," Culber said. "after you, Tilly. It'll be all right, if worse to comes worse then I am going to be a doctor and save the day."

"Actually happened once," Stamets said. "We will be right behind you."

"Thanks for coming," Tilly said, then went into the shuttle craft.

"She knows nothing about a Vulcan bonding ceremony," Stamets said.

"Not at all," Culber said.

"Shouldn't we educate her about it?" Stamets said, looking toward his partner.

"She might not participate at all," Culber said. He smiled, placing a hand on Stamet's shoulder. "She will be fine."

"Yes, my dear doctor," Stamets said, looking back lovingly toward his partner. "you're right."


	29. A duel with fate

The shuttle craft flew down toward Vulcan. Tilly played with her fingers overwhelmed in excitement. Tilly watched the Discovery become smaller and smaller to her view as the shuttle came toward the clouds. She turned her attention away from the window then looked down toward her hands. She twirled a lock of her orange hair. There was a light tap on her shoulder. Tilly looked over to see Stamets.

"This helps me when I need it," Stamets said. "Might help you, Tilly."

"A fidget spinner?" Tilly said. "I thought they were no longer in production."

"They are still in production," Stamets said. "you must be looking in the wrong places."

"Thanks, Dad," Tilly said, balancing the spinner on her leg.

Stamets looked back toward Culber in shock that slowly turned into a honored and genuinely happy look.

Culber silently laughed placing a hand on his partner's shoulder placing his hand onto his face propping his elbow on his knee.

* * *

The shuttle craft came toward a landing nearby what was a series of columns that were all connected that remained in place by long sectioned rectangles except for a gap in the back. Tilly was the first one to exit the shuttle craft to the side. There were Vulcans in garments walking toward the center in gray sparkling armor that went well with the black attire that went with and the colorful sashes wrapped around their waists. A few of them wore helmets that left no room for their pointy ears stick out. A well aged Vulcan female dressed purple and black garment with golden accessories was carried into the ceremonial center supported by two muscular female Vulcans. Tilly noticed that the older Vulcan wore a familiar stoic look with a sophisticated hair style that made her envious.

Stamets handed Culber a bottle so his partner downed it. Stamets had a bewildered look as his partner went past him handing back the empty water bottle. Stamets put it back into the shuttle craft. The Vulcan security officer walked out of the shuttle coming past the human. Stamets came behind then followed along with the small group. There was a drum hovering above a steaming pit in the center of the sacred place. They came to a stop at the left hand side across from Burnham except for Tilly. Tilly went on ahead of them waving at Burnham. Culber grabbed hold onto Tilly's shoulder as she stepped forward. She shifted in the direction of Culber with a alarmed expression.

"Tilly," Culber started. "You do _not_ want to approach Burnham."

"Why?" Tilly asked. "She is my friend," then she randomly took out a collection of flowers from behind her back. "She needs her flowers."

"I'll take that," Stamets said, taking the flowers. "Thanks."

"I have been to a Vulcan bonding ceremony before and they don't start off with Prime Minister attending," Culber said. "nor with a Vulcan trying to restrain themselves," Tilly looked on toward the male Vulcan clasping his hands together tightly. "If she is connected to him then she can feel what he is feeling and is experiencing it right this moment."

"Oh," Tilly said. "OH."

"Just keep your distance for now," Culber said. "if she has a plan, it won't be you touching her during this ceremony."

"I will respect that," Tilly said, as the doctor let go of her shoulder.

 _"It will be okay, Sylvia_ ," Burnham's voice came as Tilly's eyes rested on the woman who didn't move her mouth.

Tilly stared back at Burnham in shock standing beside the two men. Her eyes were quite taken on the woman's outfit. She was in a sparkling blue, purple, and pink dress with hands linked behind her. The male Vulcan toward T'Pau then knelt down toward her. T'Pau placed a hand on the side of the man's face then moments afterwards withdrew her hand making a comment that Tilly wasn't hearing. Burnham's hair was braided starting from the skull until two braids were on her shoulders. Her purple eyeliner highlighted her brown gorgeous eyes. To Tilly, it seemed as though the woman was radiating and ready to be crowned as a queen.

"They are my friends," Burnham said, snapping Tilly out of her self-indulging fog. T'Pau gestured toward them and they abided, with difficulty, as did Burnham only she kept her distance. "This is Tilly." Tilly smiled with a little wave. "Doctor Culber and Lieutenant Stamets."

"Thee names outworlders friends," T'Pau said. "How does thee pledge their behavior?"

"With my soul," Burnham said, her eyes meeting Tilly.

A intense flare of arousal arose in Tilly in the most unexpected moment.

"What they are about to see comes down from the time of the beginning, without change." T'Pau said. "This is the Vulcan heart." The camera panned over toward Tilly. "This is the Vulcan soul." then it turned in in the direction of Burnham. "This is our way. Kah-if-farr."

Burnham caught up with the tall Vulcan male. She made it to the drum first then placed her hand on it with her other hand still linked behind her back.

"Kal-if-fee!" Burnham shouted.

"What's happening?" Tilly asked.

"Someone is going to die," Stamets said.

"For who?" Tilly asked.

"For her freedom," T'Pau said. "She will choose her champion."

"Michael?" Tilly said, confused.

"Do not attempt to speak with them, Tilly" T'Pau said. "Nor with her bethrothed while deep in the plak-tow, the blood fever. Shall not speak with thee again until what has passed through what is to come. If thee wishes to depart, thee may leave now."

The two men looked over toward Tilly.

"I am part of a war and I see friends die after every battle," Tilly said. "I am ready to support my girlfriend."

"Then we're staying, too," Stamets said.

"We don't leave one of our own," Culber agreed.

"Burnham has chosen her friends well," T'Pau said. "Burnham, thee has chosen the kal-if-fee, the challenge. Thee are prepared to become the property of the victor?"

Burnham simply nodded.

"T'Tellis," T'Pau said. "does thee accept the challenge according to our laws and customs?"

T'Tellis had a simple nod.

"Michael, thee will choose thy champion," T'Pau said.

"I VOLUNTEER!" Tilly shouted. The two men had horrified looks on their faces.

"Is this thee's choice?" Burnham had a long stare at T'Pau.

"I do," Burnham said, after a long moment.

"Here begins the act of combat for possession of the woman, Michael. As it was at the time of the beginning, so it is now." T'Pau said, she gestured off toward the two Vulcans holding what seemed to be rugs covered in glitter. She snapped her fingers. "Bring forth the lirpa."

Sashes were wrapped around the champion's waists each coordinating to their career track eerily. Tilly had a red sash wrapped around her waist while T'Tellis had a blue one wrapped around his waist. They were handed long spears with a shovel like addition that was wide like a axe with a counterweight at the back. Tilly balanced the lirpa in her hands then began to twirled it to her side making it spin in a circle. Culber was tempted on speaking out but Stamets beat him to the punch.

"Be careful, Tilly," Stamets said. "you might kill yourself unexpectedly with that."

Tilly merely shrugged, treating it as there it were non-trivial.

"I twirled more dangerous things," Tilly said. "My grandparents taught me to twirl fire."

"Not even terrified?" Culber asked.

"Not even a little," Tilly said.

"If both survive the lirpa, combat will continue with the ahn woon," T'Pau said.

"That sounds pretty disturbing," Stamets said. "That form of combat feels homophobic."

"Why?" Culber asked.

"Because I have never heard of it," Stamets replied, simply.

"Combat will commence," T'Pau said.

Tilly lunged fast toward T'Tellis with the front tip aimed at the Vulcan, aggressively. T'Tellis leaned back missing the tip then turned propped himself back up and made a tear in the side on her left sleeve on her shoulder. Tilly made two long cuts on T'Tellis knees. T'Tellis and Tilly's lirpa's smacked together with a loud clink. Tilly was slowly forced further and further toward the steaming pit. The two Starfleet officers gasped, watching in anticipation, in horror. Tilly smacked up the counterweight of T'Tellis's weapon hitting his face. She made a long cut on his chest making a boob window and a long green cut on his chest. T'Tellis slung his lirpa at the ensign making a long vertical cut on her torso. A light red cut was left on her skin except for the black bra that covered her right breast was left not cut.

" _Aim for the liver, aim for the liver, aim for the liver_!" Burnham's voice shouted in Tilly's mind.

Tilly ducked making a long cut on the side of T'Tellis lower torso then made a stab wound into the center of his chest. T'Tellis used the rounded weighted end knocking her back. Tilly landed onto the sparkling sand landing face first.

 _"T'HY'LA!"_ Burnham shouted in her mind.

Tilly turned over then flipped over and picked up the lirpa. T'Tellis charged back toward Tilly with a firm grip on the lirpa. Tilly made her next move. It was swift and decisive making a wound where the Vulcan heart was located. She hit close enough to the Vulcan heart. T'Tellis looked at her in shock and confusion. Taken down by a mere human? He was stunned. Merely a woman taking him down lethally. Tilly yanked out the lirpa then stepped aside.

"Kroykah!" T'Pau shouted.

The bells sounded loudly by a pair of Vulcan men. Culber sprang over to the side of the Vulcan then checked for a pulse as Stamets stood in the way of T'Pau's sight.

"He is dead," Culber said. "Request to take the body to the Discovery for repairs for his funeral."

"Permission granted," T'Pau said, then Culber took out his communicator and spoke into it. She turned her attention on to the young woman. "You are now the owner of S'chn T'gai-Burnham, Michael. Treat her well and she will make your life long and prosperous."

"I will do both," Tilly said, looking over toward Burnham with a wink.

Culber, Stamets, and T'Tellis vanished in orange light from behind her.


	30. A night with fate

"We're going to make it!" Tilly said, piloting the shuttle.

" _I am not going to make it_ ," Burnham said, flatly in Tilly's mind.

"Don't talk that way, Mikey!" Tilly said, looking over her shoulder.

" _I need to have sex or I shall die,_ " Burnham replied.

"You mean he needs to have sex," Tilly said.

" _Indeed,_ " Burnham said.

"Culber to Shuttlecraft Prize," Culber came over.

"Prize here," Tilly said.

"We have beamed up T'Tellis's preferred partner," Culber went on.

"Give me bad news," Tilly said.

"Doctor Soval is working on repairing T'Tellis's injury and it's going to take a while," Culber said. "Whatever Burnham wants, give it to her and if that involves sex, we will beam you over to your quarters. I had a nurse put a medical kit and sex toys on Burnham's bed."

"Wait, what?" Tilly asked. "You say that as if I will get hurt."

"A Vulcan sharing a biological urge with a human has never been recorded in Federation history," Culber said. "you might have the best sex of your life." Tilly's scared demeanor slowly changed into a very excited and confident demeanor. A wide smile grew on her face.

"Why didn't you say that first?" Tilly said.

"I wanted to save the good news for last," Culber said.

"Turning on autopilot!" Tilly said. "Prize out." Tilly set in the course as the shuttlecraft was going headed toward the Discovery. Tilly slowly un-velcro her dress uniform then placed it onto the floor alongside the chair. She came over toward Burnham then came to a stop in front of her. Tilly leaned forward placing a hand into Burnham's lap while her arm was laid on the back rest. "You have my consent."

" _Ashaya,_ " came Burnham's voice as her fingers entertwined with Tilly's.

Burnham's fingers traced along the newly formed scar on Tilly's chest.

The blood became flattened and messy leaving some on Burnham's fingers.

It started with a simple kiss between them then it began to escalate

If Detmer and Owosekun were passing by the shared quarters later in the evening while holding hands when they heard Tilly loudly singing Hallelujah, they ignored it.

 **A/N** The rest of this wildly sex filled chapter can be found on AO3.


	31. Care with fate

"Parchi, please get T'Tellis's loved one," Soval sad.

"Yes, Doctor," Parchi left the scene.

"Doctor Culber, a word?" Soval called for the man attending to a recent Andorian transferee.

"Sure," Culber said.

The two men walked out of the main sick bay into the operation room. Soval came to a stop behind the operation table then placed his hands on it including a padd then moved it beside him. Soval had a skeptical look back at Culber. It was a curious kind of expression. One of those most common looks before Soval prodded into matters that he needed to know. The door had whished shut behind Culber.

"How did you know there would be a bonding ceremony?" Soval asked.

"I didn't. I assumed," Culber said. "People tend to get hurt when they go to Vulcan around me so that is why I brought VetiGel," a proud smile grew on his face. "I always make sure to have it on me."

"Logical," Soval said, with a nod. "Burnham was very lucky to have you there."

"All in a days work," Culber said.

"Speaking of which," Soval said. "for the next three days, Burnham is relieved of duty as is Tilly."

"Why?" Culber said.

"You thought it would last a day," Soval said. "It won't. It lasts half of a week."

"What is it called?" Culber said.

"That, I cannot tell," Soval said, earning a frown from Culber.

"Be that way," Culber said. "but if it comes of your efficiency as a doctor then I have to know."

"I am not your patient," Soval said.

"You could be in some certain circumstance," Culber said. "As I said, people who visit Vulcan get hurt. And if Vulcans keep this information back for too long, Starfleet officers might just die because we don't have that useful information."

"Then you have to be the one to tell T'Turak that she has to save him," Soval said.

"I'll do that," Culber said. "assuming they get a room to themselves."

"They will," Soval said. "Room 204. He has been beamed over right after I finished surgery." A thin smirk grew on the Vulcan's face. "You have the honor." then off he went leaving Culber in the operation room.

Culber watched Soval exit through the open doorway.

"One day being private is going to bite him in the ass," Culber said, picking up the padd. Culber paused, look on in confusion. "Make sure asshole goes into sick bay for his required vaccination?"

* * *

T'Turak was guided by a babbling Parchi down the corridor. The brightness of the corridor was pleasent and friendly to her eyes. Federation vessels were all like that. Appealing to the better aesthetic in space. The designs were different from the historical representation of early Starfleet vessel corridors. They were gray and dark at once with small windows that peered into the vastness of space. She had her hands linked behind her back. Being unexpectedly beamed up after feeding her pet chitchia wasn't how she pictured her evening to conclude. She came to a stop where two men were talking with their voices echoing down the hall.

"You mean to tell me that in the middle of a war we have two officers who can't serve?" Lorca asked.

"No, no, no, they can serve. . ." Culber replied. "Just not right now."

"And having two Vulcans who need to have sex so one of them won't die?" Lorca added. "This is not a sex ship."

"I know, Captain. It inconveniences me as it does with you," Culber said. "Just humor them."

"Does any of my other Vulcan officers have any required sex time aboard this ship?" Lorca said.

"I checked," Culber said. "They already have scheduled their time for Vulcan."

"Really?" Lorca asked.

"Yes," Culber said. "No more surprises."

"Good," Lorca said. "Think you can write a report about this?"

"This wasn't a mission, Captain," Culber said, earning a weathered smile from Lorca.

"Just what I wanted to hear," Lorca said. "Besides, if it was, it would be classified by Starfleet brass."

"Understood," Culber said. "and you need your biannual check up."

"I know, I have been dodging," Lorca said. "I will fix that."

"You better," Culber said. "Soval's padd said what he didn't really say about that issue."

Lorca grew a bemused expression then walked away.

"Doctor Soval," Parchi said, as they approached the doctor. "This is T'Turak."

"Glad to meet you," Culber said, with a polite smile.

"What issue makes Starfleet beam me up without asking first?" T'Turak asked.

"Life and death," Culber said.

"'Who?" T'Turak said.

"It is about T'Tellis," Culber said. "He is in heat behind this door and I was told you were his preferred partner."

"I am," T'Turak said.

"Still want him?" Culber asked, to be sure.

"Nothing has changed since we first met," T'Turak said. "Kaiidth." _What is, is._

"Go on ahead," Culber said, gesturing toward the door.

T'Turak went toward the doors then they whished open before her allowing the Vulcan in.

* * *

"So, Kat, what is our next mission?" Lorca asked.

"Getting repairs," Cornwell said, from over the large and wide computer screen.

"Oh right, repairs," Lorca said. "Sure that is it?"

"You went through a very difficult battle," Cornwell said, with her arms folded from the other side of the screen. "Have you seen the damage that your test bed ship has? Your ship needs a week of repairs. Can't give your crew another mission."

"Yes," Lorca said. "and it makes her beautiful, experienced, and to be feared."

Cornwell smiled then shook her head.

"Look, Gabe," Cornwell said. "I know you enjoy being out there in the front lines and your ship can't always be there. You can't be there in the front lines."

"I can," Lorca said, taking out a small black insignia from the desk.

"You're not up for that," Cornwell said.

"I was a Marine and still am," Lorca said. "Just one mission."

"You can't stand still for a week during war, can you?" Cornwell said

"No, I can't," Lorca said. "I am here to serve the Federation not do nothing."

"Sometimes I hate it when you are right," Cornwell said. "And I suppose you have a good idea of not letting crew morale faltering."

"Oh, I do," Lorca said, stroking Merkin his lap. "And I need to bring Merkin."

"No," Cornwell said.

"Yes," Lorca said.

"No," Cornwell said.

"No," Lorca said.

"Yes," Cornwell said.

Lorca raised a eyebrow.

"Fine," Cornwell said. "Just make sure it doesn't get in the way."

"It won't," Lorca said. "I will be very careful with them."

"You better," Cornwell said. "How is the Klingon Consultant?"

"L'Rell is doing fine," Lorca said. "Though, after the war, I am thinking of settling down. For good."

"The only way of getting that is by submitting the application for Vice Admiral," Cornwell said.

"Yes," Lorca said. "I want that."

"Starfleet council will be waiting for your submission," Cornwell said.

"Don't get your hopes up," Lorca said. "luck might change."

"That luck we have means we lose the war and the Klingons win," Cornwell said.

"It could end next year," Lorca said, in hope.

"Let 2257 be the year of the war ending," Cornwell said. "and new beginnings."

"Speaking of beginnings," Lorca said. "Ellen is going to be captain. Let's get that clear. It is what she deserves."


	32. A twisted loop

"My boyfriend is the most awesome person I ever met," Tyler said. "Bringing me a Klingon baldric to complete my Klingon simulation? Perfection."

"I am happy for you," Burnham said.

"He just got back from a week long mission in the Marine Corps," Tyler said.

"Captain Lorca was not away," Burnham said.

"Yes, he was," Tyler said.

"That would be impossible as I had spoken to him face to face," Burnham said.

"Oh," Tyler said. "that was a double."

"A double?" Burnham asked, raising her right eyebrow.

"He calls him his stunt double," Tyler said. "who is more southern than him."

"And I suppose he doesn't say git 'er done," Burnham said.

"Gabe? Saying that? No," Tyler said. "That is not his style."

"His double was very convincing," Burnham said. "he could have left Commander Landry in charge."

"There are times when Marines don't come back from their missions during war," Tyler said.

"He was willing to leave a double commanding his ship indefinitely?" Burnham asked.

"No," Tyler said. "The double posing as Gabe would have been reassigned to Earth and then Landry takes over."

"Logical," Burnham said.

"Has the soreness faded for Tilly?" Tyler asked.

"It has gotten better," Burnham said. "Since the link has been terminated with T'Tellis, this experience will not repeat. . . That I am assured of."

"And Tilly is okay with that?" Tyler asked.

"Disappointed but understanding," Burnham said. "Claimed it was the best sex marathon she had."

"I can imagine," Tyler said.

"Would you?" Burnham asked.

"Me?" Tyler said, gesturing to himself. "No," Tyler shook his head. "There are better things in life that make me happy."

"And parties?" Burnham asked.

"I love parties," Tyler said.

"I am not a social creature," Burnham said.

"You get to see your girlfriend all dressed up and pretty," Tyler said.

"She is pretty all the time, Tyler," Burnham said.

"Small talk is hell for people like you," Tyler said. "Just bare with it."

"I will endeavor to do so," Burnham said, as the two walked into the partying and colorful room playing late 1970's party music.

Officers had their hair styles prepared for that era. Many of the black officers had their hair up in afros, long pointy collars, and sparkly earrings to boot. Tyler left Burnham's side coming in the direction of Lorca who was playing a game with Detmer and Airiam. It had to do with Beer pong, Burnham folded her arms as she came to the side of the entrance drifting away in the colorful room. Tilly moved from Rhys with a laugh lightly tipping him away holding onto a glass and headed toward Burnham.

"Hello, space wifey," Tilly said, with a slur wrapping a arm around the shorter woman's shoulder. "Wan. . . wanna dance?" "

"You are drunk, Tilly," Burnham said, hands clasped behind her back. "You are in no position to dance."

"Am too," Tilly said.

"Are not," Burnham said. "I recall dancing meaning having control over your bodily functions."

Tilly burped.

"Uh huh," Tilly said, with a nod. "Let's dance," Tilly placed the drink onto the table then took Burnham's hand. "I have a thing for musicians."

"I can see that," Burnham said, as Tilly guided her over to a space.

Tilly placed a hand onto the woman's waist then moved to the slow paced music and Burnham placed her free hand onto Tilly's side. Tilly had a drunken smile looking at the second officer admiring the small things about her. The well carved face, the perfect eyebrows, and the pleasant hair style. She wasn't too tall, too short, too big, or too skinny. Burnham was perfect just the way she was. Burnham followed Tilly's movements as though she was unfamiliar to dancing. She stepped onto Tilly's shoes multiple times. Tilly drunkingly smiled looking down toward her feet then giggled looking back up toward the second officer. A large smile appeared on the ensign's face making her glow. Pinkish cheeks with visible acne on her face. The chubby rounded face was a notable characteristic that Burnham enjoyed cherishing. Tilly's free curly hair was on her shoulder with a head band on the center of her head making a split between her wild, curly hair.

The ship jerked forward making couples collide against each other. Glass fell off the table crashing to the floor shattering into pieces spilling on the floor. Including Tilly falling into Burnham's arms. Tilly covered her mouth with a giggle with her head resting on Burnham's shoulder. Her hands wrapped around Burnham's side and a smile grew on the ensign's face. Abrupt yet completely necessary. Lorca came onto the makeshift stage across from the center of the make shift dance room then whistled drawing the attention of all the officers. All eyes were on the captain in a white partially unbuttoned shirt. He held up a glass in one hand.

"I don't normally speeches but this is required. Let's start off with a toast. To the ten thousand Starfleet officers who gave their lives to save ours," Lorca said. "We have lost friends, family members, and loved ones in this war," there was solemn yet attentive looks shared around the room. "Yet we still have hope that we can end this war and not let it happen to anyone else, again. Starfleet Command sent a official word that we are to this party because we have acquired a consultant. Consultant L'Rell," everyone's attention turned onto L'Rell who was beside a table drinking as much as she can from a long glass in her hoverchair. "and because of her consulting, we are making a great comeback." He held the glass up. "To ending the war."

"To ending the war!" came the cheers earning a smile from Lorca.

"Continue as you were," Lorca said.

Lorca's eyes scanned the crowd until he spotted his dance partner. Lorca came down from the top and joined Tyler. Lorca was the one who initiated the kiss with Tyler by planting it on his lips. Tyler's hand flailed in surprise at first then moved on to the man's forearms. Airiam came over to the side of L'Rell coming back toward the table that had lots of beverages and food prepared for the party. It was Tyler who broke the kiss off. The two men drew apart being ignored by the other officers. Tyler's left hand came to the man's elbow while his other hand let go of the other forearm. Their foreheads touched and they genuinely appeared to be happy with each other.

"Captain Lorca, report to Transporter room," came over the intecomn. "report to the Transporter room."

"I will finish this after I get back," Lorca said.

"You better," Tyler said. "You still have a promised dance."

"Be right back, Ash," Lorca said, lightly patting on the side of Tyler's face then walked away exiting through the doors.

Burnham and Tilly continued dancing together dancing in synchronization. There was laughter from around the two. A smile on Tilly's face and a smile in Burnham's eyes looking toward the ensign. Tilly started the kiss planting it on Burnham's lips with a hand on her side. Burnham prolonged the kiss managing to continue moving slowly to the music. Other couples were dancing together that was slow drawn out. Tilly was the one who broke off the kiss with a smile back at Burnham.

"Wanna have a threesome tonight with a midshipman?" Tilly asked.

"I will consider it," Burnham said. "Very willing."

"You won't regret it," Tilly said.

"I am sure I won't, ashaya," Burnham said.

"What does that word mean, anyway?" Tilly asked.

"It is a very old word," Burnham said.

"Old as Vulcan?" Tilly asked. "Don't avoid the question."

"Just as old," Burnham said. "It means love."

"I feel so honored to be called by a sappy Vulcan word," Tilly said, with a hiccup. "I never got called princess by my parents."

"You never talk about your father," Burnham acknowledged.

"He was. . . a okay. . um. . parent," Tilly said. "Agreed with with my mother mostly. Helped me unbraid my hair, took me out to ball games, and indulged me in whatever I was interested in. . . He died on one of those colonies a few months ago attacked by the rogue Klingons," Tilly took a sigh. "Only parent I got left is my mother. . ." she grimaced. "Not really a mom. I don't really look forward to introducing her to you."

"If you do not wish to share your life with your mother then I will accept your decision," Burnham said.

"I am lucky to know someone so understanding as you," Tilly said.

"Speaking of understanding," Burnham said. "who is this midshipman?" Tilly pointed toward a male Violacean sitting on a couch comfortable outfit. "I approve."

* * *

Stamets came out of his shared quarters then made his way down the familiar path. He rubbed the back of his neck while in a fresh Starfleet uniform. The partying that Culber had dragged him into had been wild. And he slept on the wrong side of the bed because of it. Culber wasn't worried or concerned about it only reassuring him that the soreness will be gone by the next morning. If his head was tilted to the side no one was making a comment about it. Frankly, he missed Ephraim. Culber was lucky that they were not taking as many big jumps. Sometimes the jumps required sapient navigation and then there were times they didn't. They had dialed back on jumping with a human in the DASH booth.

He came to a stop when hit a wall.

"What is wrong with my lab?" Stamets asked.

"The mushrooms are spreading," came a yeoman.

Stamets turned toward the yeoman.

"How?" Stamets asked.

"Don't know how," the yeoman shrugged. "They overtook a few of the night officers and it was quarantined."

"This is not the time for the mushrooms to get infected," Stamets grumbled to himself. "I can fix that."

"I don't recommend trying that," the yeoman said.

"They are from my original batch," Stamets said, as he came over to the panel. "I know them better than anyone."

"They took out the best astromycologists on the Discovery," the yeoman said. "I heard they were eaten alive."

"Mushrooms only eat when the person is dead," Stamets said, as he looked over to see blue glowing spores floating out of the doorway. "What the fuck?" he stepped back in bewilderment going toward the transparent doors. "This is not normal."

"That they are not," The yeoman said.

Stamets turned around then headed in the direction the yeoman was coming from.

"I'm going to speak with the captain about this!" Stamets said.

* * *

"Wake up, wake up, wake up!" Detmer shouted, shaking Tilly's shoulder.

Tilly turned and looked over to see the helmsmen.

"Keyla?" Tilly said, rubbing the side of her aching head. "What is going on?"

"Get up is what going on," Detmer said. "We have to leave. Captain's orders."

Burnham bolted up.

"On our way," Burnham said. "We will be right behind you."

"Don't wait," Detmer said. "Captain Lorca is giving everyone a head start to the escape pods. The mushrooms are growing like crazy!"

Detmer walked away shaking her head. Tilly was the first one off the bed then speeded into her uniform at maximum warp. Burnham put on her purple two piece outfit that was nearby inside a cubby. Tilly took Burnham's hand as she was slipping the purple warm shirt over and fled down the hall with the shoeless second officer. Burnham observed the walls becoming coated in spreading mushrooms. It was as though they were being effected by a different variation of a time dilation that worked on them only. Burnham came to Tilly's side following the train of Starfleet officers. Suddenly the ship trembled with a loud roar. Tilly and Burnham stopped as the officers ran on ahead. Tilly embraced Burnham and then the Discovery exploded.

* * *

The ship jerked forward making couples collide against each other.

Glass fell off the table crashing to the floor shattering into pieces spilling on the floor.

Including Tilly falling into Burnham's arms. Tilly covered her mouth with a giggle with her head resting on Burnham's shoulder. Her hands wrapped around Burnham's side and a smile grew on the ensign's face. Abrupt yet completely necessary. Lorca came onto the makeshift stage across from the center of the make shift dance room then whistled drawing the attention of all the officers. All eyes were on the captain in a white partially unbuttoned shirt. He held up a glass in one hand.

"I don't normally speeches but this is required," Lorca started. "Let's start off with a toast. To the ten thousand Starfleet officers who gave their lives to save ours," Several of the officers nodded in agreement. "We have lost friends, family members, and loved ones in this war," _The scene panned over to fleeing officers running down the corridors heading toward the shuttle bay as the walls became covered with spreading mushrooms._ "Yet we still have hope that we can end this war and not let it happen to anyone else, again."

 _The scene panned out of the Discovery as several corridor were exploding. Panel by panel covered in unique spreading mushrooms. The sounds of explosion was non-existence then turned back toward the intact vessel._

"Starfleet Command sent a official word that we are to this party because we have acquired a consult. Consult L'Rell,"

 _From Culber's quarters, Stamets was hypoed slumping over on Culber. Stamets was slipped onto the bed put under the covers. Culber tucked Stamets into the bed then made a run for it out of their quarters._

"And because of her consulting, we are making a great comeback," Lorca then added with a hopeful look. "To ending the war."

 _Culber came into the transporter room joining the transporter chief and watched a figure solidify._

"To ending the war!" came the haunting cheers.

 _Finally, the camera moving off to Tilly and Burnham holding hands as everything they knew exploded around them._

The cheers made a smile grow on Lorca's face.


	33. If loops could talk

"Excuse me, pardon me, coming through, making my way, sorry about that-" Culber came in the middle of Lorca's speech then tapped on Burnham's shoulder.

Burnham looked over in the direction of Culber.

"Doctor?" Burnham asked, noticing the rolled up sleeves. "You said you-"

"Were not attending," Culber finished for the woman. "Change of plans."

"How odd, where is your partner?" Burnham asked.

"He is safe, for now," Culber said. "Listen to me, I may sound nuts, but we are stuck in a timeloop."

"Doctor, that is highly improbable as the chances of being in a time loop are incredibly slim," Burnham said. "Time loops are rare phenomenon that occur within Federation Space most notably in triangle sectors and-"

"Highly disturbed sectors of space," Culber said. "I know." his eyes glanced off toward the captain then back toward the woman. "I need your help to get the Discovery out of it. That jerk we all felt?" the small rounded machines cleaned up the mess on the floor behind the table. "We fell into a time hole. Cut off from the normal time stream."

"If we had fallen into a time hole-" Burnham started.

"We would have been thrown and have different appearances that mess with our natural aging," Culber finished. Burnham noticed how tired and worn out he appeared to be so late in the party. His once optimistic eyes were full of sorrow and dread. _"I know_." There was silence from Burnham as she reeled it in.

"What number am I thinking?" Tilly asked.

"Six," Culber said.

"You're psychic!" Tilly said.

"That's just the number you're say every time, Tilly," Culber said, as the crowd cheered. He turned his attention onto the second officer. "Captain doesn't believe me or our unexpected visitor."

Burnham tilted her head.

"Why?" Burnham asked, as Lorca unexpectedly kissed Tyler in the background.

"That's a good question," Culber said. "We're in the twenty-third loop."

"Captain-" Burnham walked ahead of the two.

"Oh no," Culber said, rubbing his forehead. "here we go again."

"What do you mean again?" Tilly asked.

Culber looked over toward the confused ensign.

"This," Culber said, as Lorca looked off in the direction of Culber with a confused expression and disbelief. "He is going to send a message to Cornwell. There are no stars in the view screen. The bridge is trying to find a answer to that," Lorca speeded out of the mess hall leaving Burnham behind. "Lorca goes to the transporter room to meet up with the visitor. Confines them to the brig and doesn't listen to them. Didn't help with the accusations that he made the first time around to Lorca. Afterwards, they are going to try using me to make a very big jump."

"And?" Tilly asked.

Culber had a long sigh.

"I die, Tilly," Culber said, as Burnham headed toward them.

"Uh, just take Burnham with you to the unexpected visitor instead of telling her?" Tilly suggested. "You won't die this time."

"I hadn't considered that," Culber said.

Burnham came to the two.

"This problem will be fixed," Burnham said.

"No," Culber said. "It is not."

"What you just did was part of the time loop, Mikey," Tilly said.

"Tell me your biggest secret," Culber said.

"A secret is meant not to be told to unsuspecting Starfleet officers," Burnham said.

"Then tell me a lie you have told yourself every day," Culber said. "I have less than a hour in this loop to live."

"Come with me," Burnham said, then went out of the mess hall with Culber trailing behind her. They came to a stop into the corridor. She turned toward the doctor then folded her arms with a sigh. "I do not blame myself for starting the war."

Culber nodded his head in understanding.

"Anything else?" Culber asked. "Just in case you don't believe me."

"I do not lie," Burnham said. "the only person you can say this to is myself."

"I will go to my grave before I tell Tilly," Culber said.

"It is very appreciated," Burnham said.

"Burnham," Culber said. "I am going to get this right."

"Doctor Culber, please report to DASH engineering," came over the intercomn.

"I will see you in the next loop," Culber said. "and I will get everyone out of this loop."

"I trust you will," Burnham said, then watched him walk away.

 _Burnham's hand slipped out of Tilly's hand as she fled toward the shuttle bay, Burnham turned toward Tilly to see her vanish in a blaze of flames._

 _"TILLY!"_

 _Bryce took her arm while she screamed in agony and guided her toward the shuttle bay as the flames chased after them._

* * *

The scene started with a view of the Discovery that had flashing lights at one of the lower decks.

The camera slowly flew in toward one of the large and wide windows that had colorful lights emitting in the dark vacuum of space. The seventies music was playing in the mess hall while officers danced to it and played to it. Familiar music that had turned from entertaining to annoying to someone who heard it over and over again. The doors opened in the back then officers stepped out of the way of a running dark man in white. Culber made his way through crowd making his path toward the two young women standing side by side. Lorca balanced himself up against from the couch beside him with a laugh. Tyler was shaking his head as Culber brushed past him. Culber came over to Burnham.

"Burnham, you are a very good liar and you blame yourself for starting the war," Culber said.

"I do not recall telling you that," Burnham said.

"This is a emergency," Culber said. "Come with me."

"May I bring Tilly?" Burham asked.

"No, she is too drunk to understand what is going on," Culber said.

"I sooooo am," Tilly agreed, slumping against Burnham with a laugh.

"Ogallery!" Culber called. "I got a man you'll love to meet!"

* * *

"Why are we in the transporter room?" Burnham asked.

"Hold on a hot second," Culber said, then approached the black man with short locks. "Phil, there's a hot girl outside waiting to take you out to dance."

"No, there isn't," Phil said.

"Did I mention that she is a Orion?" Culber said, walking in the line of Phil's sight to the transporter padd. "It is Lieutenant Ogallery."

"Can you be a friend and man this console for me until I get back?" Phil asked.

"Until I have to die," Culber said.

"Thanks for being a pal!" Phil said, then he walked away.

A strange man appeared on the transporter padd then puked. Burnham recognized the man but not the uniform as it was blue with gray additions. The Starfleet delta was on his chest with gray shoulder padds, Starfleet delta that seemed liked chain mail at the sides and a zipper that went down from the center of his chest. His uniform was partially unzipped. He wiped off what he had puked off the side of his mouth. The man was trembling on the transporter padd in a ill like manner. Culber slowly turned in the direction of Burnham.

"This is Lieutenant _Commander_ Paul Stamets, not our Paul, but he is in this mess as we are," Culber said.

"Fascinating," Burnham said, observing the man.

"Why does Burnham have a Starfleet delta during the war?" Paul asked.

"Oh shit," Culber said, as Burnham approached the two.

"You are from a alternate universe where the captain did not listen to my advice and I had to mutiny against her to save her life, I failed to save her and the ship, and was court martial-ed. A war erupted because of her mistake. I was enlisted to the Discovery thanks in part to Admiral Georgiou," Burnham said. "She carries unnecessary weight on her shoulders."

"Actually, she died and Lorca got you aboard," Paul said. "I know that your Lorca is the real deal Lorca," he shook his hand. "You are really lucky."

"Luck has nothing to do with the war," Burnham said.

"We had a evil version of our captain who manipulated us from the beginning and tried to make the worst of us come out," Paul said, as Culber helped him up. Blue metal peeked out from his rolled up sleeve.

Burnham grabbed his wrist then slid up the sleeve.

Culber stopped and his face slowly started to fall as his eyes looked toward the man.

"Who authorized your jump?" Burnham asked.

"No one," Paul said, as Burnham let go of his wrist. "I did it to myself."

"Doctor Culber, it seems your partner knew what you were going to do," Burnham said.

"No, I didn't," Paul said. He looked toward Culber in confusion. "He didn't know I was doing it. We didn't have the time to talk about it."

"Paul, how human are you because of all these jumps?" Culber asked.

"I am connected to the network," Paul said. "And you're part of it it."

"I know," Culber said, factly.

"You don't understand," Paul said. "To me, you are dead, Hugh. Voq snapped your neck right across from me while I was in a coma. All because I did too many jumps. I was inside the network, trapped, and then you appeared. You ordered me to come back with your kiss."

"How can Voq do that when he is thousands of light years away?" Culber asked.

"That is a trick question," Paul said. "Right?" he looked toward Burnham.

"You are inside a alternate universe," Burnham said. "Anything can be different."

"And we're in a time hole," Culber said.

"Your Discovery fell into a pot hole?" Paul said.

"Yes," the two replied.

"How is that even possible," Paul said, as he paced the transporter padd. "We never fell into one. We had only the Mudd loop incident." he stopped then turned toward the two. "This is the Mudd Incident, isn't it?" he rubbed the back of his head. "Except seeing the mushrooms grow in the walls? It's part of it, right?"

"There were mushrooms growing on the ship?" Burnham asked, raising a eyebrow.

"Absorbing anyone alive," Paul said. "Over fourteen hours. You don't know how many times I have seen Lorca come in and demand answers from me. Answers I can't give." Culber looked crushed.

"Commander, tell me. . ." Burnham said. "how did you get transported into our ship?"

"I was being beamed over to Starbase 1," Paul said. "Mandatory leave. Captain T'Pol decided that I needed time for myself. There was a ion storm."

Burnham and Culber raised a eyebrow then exchanged a glance.

"Paul," Culber said. "That's probably the worst joke you ever gave."

"At least it is better than having a sketchy and shady human male captain on the bridge," Paul said, with a long traumatized look. "You would still be alive if he didn't manipulate me to do one last jump."

"Do you have any ideas why mushrooms would be absorbing in the crew and the ship?" Burnham asked.

"Since it starts with the ship it could always be from the metal itself," Paul said.

"Like we're inside the DNA of a mushroom and we are slowly becoming part of it," Burnham said, earning a nod from Paul that slowly turned from elated to terrified. "we could be in a small pocket universe made of mushrooms not a time hole. Somehow that pocket universe is experiencing a time loop. It can only live this way."

"I didn't land the ship into this," Culber said, with his arms folded. "One of the night crew bridge members made a mistake and I can't get them out of it."

"What happens to you?" Paul asked. "You are the navigator."

"I rather not talk about it," Culber said. "Having my neck snapped isn't painful as what happens to me."

"I can try to get the ship out," Paul said. "I have more experience than you do."

"Really?" Culber asked. "Then how many times did you get confused with Corzan two and Corzan three coordinates?"

"They are in the same orbit," Paul said. "Wasn't my fault a part of the hull was scrapped off."

"I did the exact same thing," Culber said. "we cannot jump our way out of this."

"But we can walk our way out," Burnham said. "Jumping can lead to being crushed into pieces and broken bones. There could be a big enough that we could go on toward the exit of this pocket universe."

"I have more experience doing jumps," Paul insisted. "let me search for the hole."

"As second officer of this ship, I am not the one to decide on orders as I am not in command and this is simply theorizing. What we are doing will be considered mutiny going against the captain's orders," Burnham said. "if we were to do it and have consequences, then we must do it right. And if we fail. . ."

"Then we have another loop to try," Paul said.

"I am interested in contacting the acting Spore Drive officer," Burnham said.

"So you still have Airiam?" Paul asked.

Burnham and Culber nodded.

"She is in the mess hall partying," Culber said. "as usual."

"After we find the hole, we will find a way to return you to your universe," Burnham said.

"What if I have to create the hole?" Paul asked. "A spare shuttle with transporter settings. I can figure a way home after you leave."

Burnham had a hard look back toward Paul.

"We are Starfleet," Burnham said. "we don't leave one of our own behind just to save ourselves. That is not who we are."

Paul was stumped looking back at her.

"You didn't mutiny against your captain and you give perfectly captainly comments," Paul said. "What stopped you from accepting your own command?"

Burnham chose to ignore it turning her attention onto Culber.

"Doctor Culber, explain to me what loop we're in," Burnham said.

"Twenty-eighth loop so far," Culber said.

"We just got a little bit further than what we did last time," Paul agreed, with a smile.

 _This time Tilly was alone in a escape pod crying as flames were heading in her direction._

* * *

Culber appeared from behind Burnham in the mess hall then placed a hand on her shoulder making her turn toward him.

"Can you please for _one_ loop stop dying on me?" Culber asked.

"Are you okay?" Burnham asked, raising a eyebrow.

"Perfectly frustrated," Culber said. "You are a good liar and you blame yourself for the war. And no, we're not going into Paul's lab after we go to the transport room and get our friend," he took her by the shoulder. "Hey Ogallery," Ogallery turned toward him. "I got a good man for you in the transporter room!"

 _Burnham was vaporized in a explosion that originated from a lone shuttle equipped with highly questionable tech and the mushrooms continued to spread through the corridors._


	34. Err in the loop

"Burnham, we're in a time loop," Culber repeated himself for the forty-fifth time.

"We're in some kind of pocket universe that is making my mushrooms grow and absorb the crew," Paul said. "we're still working on ripping a hole in the pocket universe. No, we cannot jump because it would kill Hugh and then I would be the last handy navigator to go to." Burnham raised a eyebrow. "I die."

"How can a starship fall into a pocket universe?" Burnham asked.

"You ask that and we never have a answer," Culber said.

"Your ship jerked into it," Paul said. "I know it doesn't make sense since it would have to have been pulled in by some outside force. We don't know what that is." he held his hand up. "No," The scene panned over to spores landing on the shoulder of a lieutenant then slowly a mushroom began to form after sinking into the shirt. Common mushrooms were forming on the glass paneling. "we do not need to go into DASH engineering as the mushrooms are spreading from there and infecting that goes inside it. Death is imminent in less than thirteen hours. It is a very painful process."

Burnham shuddered at the memory of recovering from the mushrooms then looked toward the two.

"You can do this without me," Burnham said, earning a head shake from Culber.

"I tried that for the first few loops," Culber said. "I committed mutiny. Still got forced to make a jump. This needs the first officer, the second officer, and third officer all in agreement to commit mutiny for the safety of the crew and the ship against the captain. We can do it without roping in everyone and trashing their careers. I don't want to commit mutiny again. I broke his heart and I don't want to see him heartbroken again. Should we break through this time loop then it must be done _without_ mutiny."

"Never knew my partner was truly capable of it until I came here," Paul said, whole heartedly as he patted on Culber's shoulder.

"What if we tried climbing?" Burnham asked. "If all the searching has failed perhaps that can be done."

"I don't think a starship can climb, Commander," Paul said.

"A shuttlecraft can," Burnham said.

"That will take special additions-" Culber said. "No," he shook his hands. "that's exactly how you died in the past loops."

"If you want to do climbing then the additions must be taken onto the ship and be tied to the shuttle craft," Burnham said. "That will take a few hours with cooperation."

"A form of towing," Culber said.

"That could work," Paul said.

"Theoretically, if this were to succeed. . ." Burnham said. "Time might restart only the loop is over."

"I know there is a 'but' there," Paul said. "Spit it out, Commander."

"Except the shuttlecraft will remain in the pocket universe where the pilot may have to live out the rest of their life," Burnham said.

"That is off the table," Culber said. "That has to be another way."

"We have to work as a crew not alone," Burnham said.

"I don't want to face Lorca again under these circumstances," Paul said.

"It makes one wonder how you got any of the parts needed to make a shuttle explode in shuttle bay without cooperation," Burnham observed.

"Yeah, I was out in a shuttle craft with Paul while you were talking Lorca into not using me immediately," Culber said.

"Did it work?" Burnham said.

"Yes. . . briefly," the two men said, with folded arms.

"Except he didn't just die," Paul said. "every one did, ship was flat like a pancake for five minutes and then it was back to big ol' ship with blood all over the place. I had to set off the self destruction sequence. I don't want a repeat of that."

"If you do not wish to interact with the captain then perhaps you should go down to someone who is manning the bridge," Burnham said. "and let the captain be drunk."

Paul and Culber exchanged a concerned glance together.

"Saru is good for sore eyes," Paul said. "Speaking of who, I haven't seen him lately."

"No," Burnham said.

"Airiam?" Paul asked.

"No," Burnham said.

"Then who?" Paul asked.

"Doctor Culber report to DASH engineering," came over the intercomn.

"Culber, I am a telepathic positive individual and it would be wise to request I lower my shields to hear your thoughts," Burnham said. "we do not need a mutiny."

Culber nodded.

"Can I die for you this time?" Paul asked.

 _Culber and Stamets were braced together in their quarters as a large destructive force broke through their door then vaporized them._

* * *

"Commander, do not request for the captain to the bridge," Burnham said, as she entered the bridge.

Landry looked over in confusion toward the second officer.

"Number Two, you should be enjoying the party," Landry said.

"I would if we were not in a time loop inside a pocket universe," Burnham said.

"We are in a time loop," Landry said, in disbelief.

All eyes were on the second officer.

"We have been inside this timeloop for approximately more than a week." Burnham came to the side of the commander. "We have a visitor arriving in the Transporter room right this moment who happens to be someone else capable of navigating through the mycelium network."

"Who is our secondary navigator?" Landry said.

"Lieutenant Commander Stamets," Burnham said. "Every time we try to jump in this time loop, we kill our navigator."

"Lorca is a very stubborn captain," Landry said. "Unlike him, I wouldn't risk my crew just to get out of a pot hole. He deserves to party while I take care of the bridge. I don't suppose you got a plan."

"Aye," Burnham said, with a nod. "we do."

* * *

"Doctor Soval, Landry would like this version of Stamets to have the implants removed," Burnham said, as Paul was sitting on the biobed with his hand cupped together looking toward the ceiling. "It is absolutely necessary."

"To make him blend in and unable to do a jump," Soval said, observing the young pale and sad man.

"Indeed," Burnham said. "I have been informed that they have put away the DASH components in his lab."

"That is quite a logical course of action," Soval agreed. "Unable to be distinguished from his counterpart," he looked over toward the second officer. "By the way, where is he?"

"Spending time with his partner," Burnham said. "He is going to need some time before he meets Commander Stamets."

"Yes, yes," Soval said. "If I were to met Captain Soval then I would need that too," the Vulcan had a small bemused laugh earning a strange look from Paul leaning forward. "I will see if I can squeeze him into my schedule and if my assistant is up for it."

"I am up for it," Parchi said, in the background.

"Looks like I do have room in my schedule for this," Soval said. "Commander Stamets, you are to report to the operation room in fifteen minutes."

"I never met you before," Paul said, in awe.

"Really?" Soval asked.

"There were mostly human doctors," Paul said.

"A mostly human environment," Soval said. "I must have died in his timeline. Perhaps my ship was destroyed." then he left the two.

Burnham faced the Astromycologist.

"I take it we never went this far coming to sick bay," Burnham said.

"This is the first time, actually. We didn't really gather the crew in engineering to do make the changes in the shuttle craft," Paul said. "If it means we get a little bit closer in the next fifty loops to going home. I intend to do anything."

"I intend for this to be the last loop," Burnham said. "I will be not in the shuttle bay with you working on the device."

"Must be the worst party you attended," Paul said.

Burnham sat into the chair alongside the Astromycologist in silence.

"My first party was a diplomatic one that I had to attend as Sarek's Ward," Burnham said. "It was a month after my parents death and seeing Klingons there. ." Burnham paused, regaining her emotional composure, then sighed. "I couldn't speak, I couldn't talk to them, and I couldn't move. I know it was for a minor treaty. It was dreadful and it was very sad so Sarek took me away and taught me how to prevent my feelings from getting in the way of duty. It was the worst party yet it was the beginning to help me with my trauma. Perhaps it was the best party and I am not entirely sure."

"That's not a bad party," Paul said, wiping a tear off. "You never talk about Sarek. Only got to meet the ambassador twice."

"Our family is no ones business until it is," Burnham said. "That is the Vulcan way."

Paul nodded.

"So," Paul said. "Are these uniforms like the Constitution uniforms? Rank on sleeves?"

"They are," Burnham said.

"I was wondering this entire time why you didn't have a pip on your badge," Paul said, then he took off his badge. He held it up so she could get a good look. Burnham had a look of intrigue at it then leaned back from the biobed linking her hands behind her back. He placed his badge onto his chest. He looked over toward the woman. "So you still have badges?"

Burnham slipped it off.

"It is very thin," Burnham said. "It may look sewn into the uniform but it is not. Looks can be very deceiving."

"Wow," Paul said. "Golden?" he raised a eyebrow. "And you're not even in the command track." he looked up toward her then handed the golden badge back.

"All badges are golden," Burnham said. "I take it they correspond to the track you're in."

"They do," Paul said.

Burnham placed the badge onto her chest on the right side.

"Commander Burnham," came the call of a man. Burnham turned in the direction of the Violacean from earlier. A midshipman in security red. "She fell asleep while we were making out. Could you take Tilly to her quarters?" Burnham was unable to reply as she stood there contemplating what to do. As though she were stuck between staying as support and collecting her bondmate.

"Go ahead," Paul said. "I will be out for awhile."

Burnham nodded then came over to the midshipman's side.

Burnham slumped Tilly's left arm onto her shoulder then walked away leaving sick bay. Tilly was snoring away leaned against Burnham's shoulder. Burnham held onto Tilly's hand guiding her down the hall. Burnham's footsteps echoed behind her going through the not as well occupied corridors. The doors opened before her to the shared quarters. Burnham placed Tilly onto the bed then slipped off the small boots, the earrings, and the head band. Burnham observed the tired ensign as she slid up the covers to the bed over Tilly's shoulder. Burnham slipped out of her blue shirt and black pants then joined into the bed with Tilly. Burnham snuggled in grabbing hold onto Tilly's larger hand.

* * *

"L'Rell, are you okay?" Detmer asked, coming to the side of the Klingon and placed a hand onto the back rest of the hove chair.

L'Rell was staring out into the window.

"There are no stars," L'Rell said. "As though hope is gone."

"Hey," Detmer said. "it is just the blinds."

"Blinds?" L'Rell asked.

"Its a mandatory setting on the windows for night shift to give allusion that it is night," Detmer said. "The bridge has different settings."

"Since my time here, I have not noticed," L'Rell said. "I should have."

"When you are not feeling well, everything is a blur," Detmer said.

"You speak as if you experienced it," L'Rell acknowledged.

"I have," Detmer said.

"What is it that made you feel sad?" L'Rell said.

"I have a prosthetic eye," Detmer said.

"A ocular implant," L'Rell said.

"We call it prosthetic," Detmer said. "acts like a real eye but it doesn't look like one."

"That is nothing to be depressed about," L'Rell said.

"I was depressed because I lost a part of myself," Detmer said. "Michael told me that honor felt it was part of you."

"It is more than that," L'Rell said. "It is like what you humans call. . . faith in yourself. . only it applies to those part of your blood."

"Faith in your family," Detmer said.

"If you think of it that way," L'Rell said. She looked over toward Detmer. "You have nothing to be sad about."

"I do," Detmer said. "Would this war make me become a cyborg by the time it is over? Will I still look young and capable of service to Starfleet? Would my new parts become my new weakness?" she sighed with her arms folded. "What if I had lost a part of my head and required a cranial implant? Losing my eyebrow? Unable to grow hair from the other side of my face? Would people still like me despite what the war has done to me? I was stumped for a couple of days because of it."

"That is angst," L'Rell said.

"Maybe," Detmer said.

"How did you reconcile with that?" L'Rell asked.

"Joann helped me get back up," Detmer said.

"Lieutenant junior grade Osowekun," L'Rell said.

"Yes, isn't she beautiful?" Detmer asked. "she is like a princess ripped out of a fairy tale and placed into Starfleet."

"She is elegant," L'Rell said.

"Ever since then, I have been walking among clouds," Detmer's face was glowing. "All I see are clouds in the atmosphere. I see a orange sky with the sun in the distance. I see beauty in the void. And it is the best thing that has ever happened to me," she looked over with a smile toward L'Rell. "One day you might find it and everywhere you look in the night, that is what you see."

L'Rell was touched.

"You are kind," L'Rell said.

And Culber finished to himself while leaning against the doorway, word for word, "That's what Starfleet is made of."


	35. In the middle of the loop

Safe in familiar arms, waking up late in the morning, ever so lazily was a wonderful way to start a morning. Mornings that Tyler had once thought would not belong to him after escaping Voq. Lorca changed all that for Tyler. Tyler's head was resting against Lorca's shirtless chest with his right arm on the lighter man's stomach. Lorca's golden shirt looked green with the light from the lamp hitting it. Merkin was purring loudly on Lorca's chest. Tyler turned onto his side making Lorca's arm fall off his back onto the soft, warm bed sheet. Lorca was talking in his sleep. A few words that sounded like gibberish, Starfleet regulations, and something about a cat with wings. Tyler smiled looking down onto Lorca.

The security officer slid out of bed then put on his black pant then the two shirts.

"Come back to bed, sailor," Lorca grumbled.

"I have a session with a counselor," Tyler said.

"Oh, hot damn, right, we're in a war," Lorca said.

"I got a few minutes to spare before going," Tyler said. Lorca smiled back, tiredly. His bright blue prosthetic eyes reminding Tyler of a Alcyone, a typical blue giant, resting in space.

"I got a bad headache," Lorca said.

"You drank more glasses than I did, Gabe," Lorca said.

"Not enough, apparently," Lorca said. "The goal was to make you get drunk and have some shenanigans. It's a old time tradition to have fun during a war," Lorca rubbed his forehead. "and some relics of that fleeting happiness in a dark time."

"You failed at it, miserably," Tyler said. "Didn't hear of such a tradition from Maranville."

"I will sleep some of it off before going to Soval," Lorca said.

"Hmmm," Tyler hummed, as Lorca's eyes grew heavy and heavier.

Lorca fell to sleep. Tyler combed his hair using the mirror as his guide while whistling a old sailor song. Slowly, the security officer stopped whistling. Something dawned on him. He placed the comb onto the counter then walked toward the window. He searched in the dark then rubbed his eyes and pinched himself. It was real. Not a bad dream that was happening. He appeared to be alarmed at the sight looking into the pitch black.

* * *

The doors to the shared quarters belonging to the second officer opened to reveal Tyler leaning against the doorway with one hand cupping around his nose.

"Lieutenant Tyler," Burnham greeted him. "what brings you here?"

"I heard we're inside of a time loop," Tyler said. Burnham raised a eyebrow. "I asked for this."

"Might I ask why?" Burnham asked.

"Lieutenant Stamets looked kind of pissed off when he saw me and I figured I did something that I forgot. Again, I asked for it. Thought it was going to be a slap," he had a short laugh. "at least he feels better," Tyler shrugged. "Could have been worse. Anyway, he told me that after apologizing. He didn't need to. Had a good hook."

Burnham had a bemused look in her eyes.

"And?" Burnham asked.

"Are we really in a time loop?" Tyler said.

"Yes," Burnham came over to a cabinet then slid the drawer open and took out a nose cover. She came over and handed it to the man. Tyler took then covered his nose with it. The red machine became part of his nose cleaning up the bleeding mess. "We are going to be out of it, soon."

"To him, this must be the first loop where we crossed paths," Tyler said.

"Perhaps," Burnham said.

"Did Tilly make it to her quarters last night?" Tyler asked.

"I made sure of it," Burnham said. "and the captain?"

"Fast asleep nursing a bad hang over," Tyler said. "Not going to be up before the loop is over."

"Do not be so sure about that," Burnham said.

"Is there anything I can do?" Tyler asked.

"Yes," Burnham said. "Do not mention the nose punch to Stamets in the foreseeable future."

"I can do that," Tyler said.

"Anything else?" Burnham said.

"Yes," Tyler said, folding his arms with a concerned look. "Why are there no stars?"

Burnham sighed looking up toward the lieutenant.


	36. Fixed and unfixed

"First they transplant me from my lab, bring me aboard a testbed starship that glitches all the time, then quarantines my mushrooms _months_ into the war without telling me about it, and they expect me to be happy about it!" Stamets vented. "What are they going to take next? My sanity?"

Stamets turned about a corner while he shook his head. He spotted someone with his complexion whistling down the corridor with a hose that had curls around his shoulder. He almost paused as he went through his memory of people with very pale skin and almost blonde yet white like hair assigned to the Discovery as he was. The whistling sounded like his own except a little more cheerful and happy. Stamets picked up his pace to catch up with the look alike. When Stamets took another turn after his look alike, all he could see were familiar officers walking down the corridor. He looked both ways then stepped back into the corridor that he came down from. Stamets continued his path down the corridor feeling a bit bothered by the phenomenon.

"Paul," Stamets jumped then turning in the direction of Culber. "How is the modifications to the shuttle going?"

"Excellent," Stamets said. "In fact, I was just looking for you."

Culber smiled back.

"Oh really?" Culber said.

"Uh huh," Stamets said. "I think we are going to make it."

"This time we will, Commander," Culber said. "and hopefully, you go back to your time stream."

"Hopefully," Stamets said. "but was it absolutely necessary that they quarantine my lab?"

"It's for the best," Culber said. "we don't want anyone to die this time," Culber placed a hand along the side of Stamets's face. Culber rubbed a thumb underneath Stamets's ear. There was a strange look in Culber's eyes. Sympathetic yet sad. "We've gotten so far in this loop."

Stamets processed what he had been told while keeping the mask up.

"Let me tell you something," Stamets said. "You and my counterpart are going to have a nice day to ourselves after this variation of the war. Just other me and you."

Culber smiled widely.

"I will enjoy that," Culber said.

"How about a kiss for good luck?" Stamets asked.

"I don't know about that," Culber said.

"It wouldn't be cheating if you were kissing the same man who is your partner anywhere in the known multiverse," Stamets said.

Culber laughed then Stamets kissed him with his hands on Culber's cheeks. Culber's hands moved to Stamets's waist with closed eyes. Kram and a Vulcan yeoman walked around the two then met by each others side. Kissing Culber made a warm fuzzy feeling grow inside Stamets. It became more fuzzier everytime they touched and reduced Stamets into a sea of spores. It was Culber who broke off the kiss then slowly opened his eyes. Culber's warm, happy expression was replaced by one that was guilty and apologetic. Culber's hand strolled down to his partners shoulder then lightly squeezed it.

"Hey, good luck," Culber said. "Next time I see you, it better not be in a time loop."

Stamets softly smiled back, lovingly.

"It won't, my dear doctor," Stamets said, taking his hands off Culber's face. "You can count on that."

* * *

"Commander, where does this go?" Ensign Molina asked.

"Back end, with the open clamps," Paul said.

"Aye," Molina said.

"Just a little more additions and a generator powerful enough to tow this ship away," Paul said. "I can get away with breaking the laws of physics just this once."

"Paul, what's the plan for this miniature mushroom pocket universe?" Paul heard his voice from behind him.

Officers ignored the strange situation almost as though they were used to weird goings like this. Paul sighed then slowly turned around toward himself. Paul noticed how young he was, before, before, before he lost Hugh. He came over to the more happier man's side then towed him away from the adjusted shuttlecraft explaining to him in detail what the plan was. Stamets look of confusion slowly turned into horror. He looked at the war veteran with large upset eyes. He watched his counterpart hold his arm up to show the rank then lowered his arm down. Stamets shook his head.

"Does Commander Burnham know?" Stamets asked.

"Every time she does, she tries to go with me and then the shuttle explodes," Paul said. "It is like the Discovery is a pinto in a bad action movie, Lieutenant."

"There has to be a better way of saving one hundred thirty six crewmembers aboard this ship," Stamets said.

"I am not part of the crew," Paul said.

"You have a rank, and by Starfleet standards, you are one of us." he looked at the man strangely. "Haven't you forgotten that?" he looked in dismay at the war veteran. "That is not very Starfleet of us."

Stamets observed himself contemplating the reply.

"Crewmen values have changed because of the war with the Klingons," Paul said. "It's strange to see myself still clinging onto the past."

"What happened to your Hugh?" Stamets asked.

"Voq killed him," Paul said. There was a long drawn out silence between the two men. "It was difficult to say goodbye in the network to my Hugh."

"Oh," Stamets said. "I see. So if he goes down on a away mission that Voq might be, Hugh has to go with security?"

"Yes," Paul said.

"I came across Hugh in the hall and I pretended to be you," Stamets said. "It shouldn't be that easy to trick him into thinking that he is talking to the right person."

Paul had a laugh.

"It shouldn't be," Paul said.

"I propose we have sex in the name of science," Stamets asked, stepping closer toward the war veteran. Paul used his hand to guide the man from his personal bubble. "and also, to give you something that Hugh gave me that really should have been given to you." Paul raised a confused eyebrow at the lieutenant.

"Maybe," Paul said. "After tests being done to be sure it's not harmful to touch a counterpart."

Stamets poked the war veteran's shoulder.

"Ah ha," Stamets said. "I didn't get shocked."

"You would get shocked if we were the same age," Paul said. He shifted toward Stamets. "Look, love to, but I can't. Modifications are nearly done."

"Looks to me they are," Stamets said. "You are making excuses. You don't want to go."

"I have to go," Paul said. "and these adjustments are not excuses."

"If you are making a system that can make its own quantum bubble, personal infinite energy generator, and a very strong tractor beam then that might be done right this minute since you did have all night to work on it," Stamets pointed out. "It's alright to be scared." he placed his hand on the war veteran's shoulder. "You need some time to you."

"I had help," Paul said. "Very good help by the way."

"You have classified mushrooms to supply for the infinite energy generator and questionable energy sources to supply for the consumption your machines need. Those additions are unnecessary because the addition is underneath the shuttle craft. You know that as I do," Paul sighed, closing his eyes feeling damned. "I know you need your mind taken off what could be your last term of service."

"If I say agree, will you stop trying to reel me in?" Paul asked.

"Yes," Stamets said.

"I hate you," Paul said, earning a smile from his counterpart. "Fine, I'll do it."

"You're me, it is okay to hate yourself!" he took the war veteran's hand. "Come on, I know a lab that is empty at this hour."

* * *

"Commander Stamets, is the shuttle craft ready?" Landry asked, as she sat down into the chair.

"Ready," came the reply, as Burnham and Culber came onto the bridge.

"Got more bad news, Number Two?" Landry asked, looking toward the second officer.

Burnham rightened her jaw raising a brow toward the first officer.

"Just because I have a tendency to come onto the bridge with unlikable news does not mean I have some available," Burnham said. "I am only here to observe the effort."

"Doctor," Landry said.

"We never got this far in the previous loops," Culber said. "It is all a mystery."

"Lieutenant Detmer, put the ship into impulse power," Landry said. "Commander Stamets, you have the Discovery."

"Literally," came the man's amused voice. "Preparing for climbing. Will climb up to the breach in thirty three minutes."

"Good timing," Culber said. "Then we're down to one hour until the loop resets itself. Forcibly or not."

"The chances are on our sides, men," Landry said.

From the bridge, the senior officers watched the modified shuttle craft hover in space in front of them.

A jet of blue tractor beam light came toward the Discovery grabbing hold onto it.

The ship jerked forward as everyone kept their balance on their feet. The ship had familiar hums coursing underneath them belonging to the engines of the ship. The familiar beeps and whirrs of the machinery around them downplayed the seriousness of the situation. Burnham observed the heavily modified shuttle craft that had more parts on it than most. It was like a flying pod encased into a shell that reinforced it. Culber patiently watched the ship going into the distance. The scene panned over to Lorca's quarters to show him cuddling with Tyler on the bed with Merkin lodged in the corner of the darker man's arm. The scene returned toward the bridge. Detmer looked up toward the view screen and looked at it in awe. Osowekun seemed to be amazed by it. There was nothing ahead except for the shuttlecraft. They stood still for thirty minutes waiting for the ship to reach the exit.

"Commander, the Horizon is requesting a view screen hailing," Bryce said.

"On screen," Landry said, as the officer turned back toward his station.

A Stamets appeared on the screen.

"Hey, partner," Stamets had a weak wave. "Don't get angry at me."

"Why should I get angry?" Culber asked.

"Do I have to get angry?" Landry asked.

"No, Commander," Stamets said. "Burnham and I have done the computations for what could happen with this technology inside the mushroom pocket. Theoretically this can work and we all can enjoy a nice night and morning." he smiled back toward the bridge crew. "I love you."

Stamets vanished off the screen.

"PAUL!"

* * *

The Horizon flew toward the hole leading into open space.

Except this hole was shrinking rapidly.

The Horizon then unexpectedly made a sharp right turn sending the Discovery flying toward the hole and the blue link between them evaporated.

The Discovery vanished from the pitch black.

* * *

"Admiral, report to the bridge," came Saru's voice over the intercom.

Georgiou put on her golden shirt then sped out of her quarters. It was the urgent kind of speed walk. Her normally tied hair was loose and left on her shoulders. She straightened her uniform smoothing out the wrinkles in it passing by the officers. Not often did Saru request for her presence. It had to be a very important matter to summon her right after taking a sonic shower. Calmly and with composure, she made it onto the silent bridge. Saru lifted himself off the chair then came over to the side.

"Report," Georgiou said.

"We have located the Discovery," Saru said.

Georgiou looked over warily toward the first officer.

"Are you sure?" Georgiou asked.

"Affirmative," Saru said. "we have done multiple scans to be sure."

"Hail the Discovery," Georgiou said. "and request that Captain Lorca speak to me immediately."

* * *

"Captain Lorca, report to Bridge," came over the intecomn. "report to the bridge."

"I will finish this after I get back," Lorca said.

"You better," Tyler said. "You still have a promised dance."

"Be right back, Ash," Lorca said, lightly patting on the side of Tyler's face then walked away exiting through the doors.

Burnham and Tilly continued dancing together dancing in synchronization. There was laughter from around the two. A smile on Tilly's face and a smile in Burnham's eyes looking toward the ensign. Tilly started the kiss planting it on Burnham's lips with a hand on her side. Burnham prolonged the kiss managing to continue moving slowly to the music. Other couples were dancing together that was slow drawn out. Tilly was the one who broke off the kiss with a smile back at Burnham.

"Wanna have a threesome tonight with a midshipman?" Tilly asked.

Burnham smiled back.

"Under the condition that all you do is watch," Burnham said.

Tilly nuzzled Burnham's neck.

"That I can do," Tilly said.

* * *

Lorca came onto the bridge appearing to be irritable.

"What is it?" Lorca said.

"Admiral Georgiou," Bryce said.

Lorca stopped then looked over toward Landry then toward Bryce.

"The Shenzhou is currently chaperoning Starfleet's finest delegates and ambassadors to welcome in a new member of the federation," Lorca said. "That should take more than a week."

"Shenzhou is approaching the Discovery," Osowekun reported.

Lorca and Landry turned toward the view screen to see the Shenzhou swoop into view with brand new battle scars. He looked confused toward the view screen then turned toward Landry. Landry seemed to be confused as the rest of the bridge crew on the silent bridge.

"On screen," Lorca said.

Georgiou appeared on the screen.

"Captain Lorca," Georgiou said. "where the hell have you been?"

"Having a party," Lorca said, holding a glass up with a smile. "Starfleet orders for the crew morale."

"Starfleet did not order you to be gone for fifty-six days, captain," Georgiou said.

Lorca looked on confused toward the woman.

"It hasn't been. . . fifty. . . six. . days," Lorca said.

"We have been losing the war in your absence, Lorca," Georgiou said.

"No," Lorca said. "No, no, no, that can't be right."

"That's our reality," Georgiou said. "Your ship is to report to Alpha Centauri. We need all hands on deck. You will be reassigned to the USS Isaacs as captain. Is that clear?"

Lorca was speechless at first.

"Clear, admiral," Lorca said, "Request that I can take Lieutenant Tyler to my new posting."

"Granted," Georgiou said. "Shenzhou out."

Georgiou's figure vanished off the screen.


	37. A turnover of command

On the Transporter padd in a stream of shining yellow light instead of orange light appeared a body inside of what seemed to be a strange mucus net while shivering. Phil came over to the side of the body then checked for a pulse. Phil recognized the unconscious man's face. He darted over to the transporter console then pressed a button.

"Transporter room to Sick Bay," Phil said.

"Sick Bay here," Pollard said.

"Lieutenant Stamets just appeared on the transporter padd in a sac," Phil said.

"Beam him up to biobed three," Pollard said. "Sick bay out," she turned off the console. "Someone get Doctor Culber!"

* * *

"This is not Lieutenant Stamets, Admiral," Culber said, directing toward the resting war veteran.

"Then who is this?" Georgiou asked.

"Lieutenant Commander Stamets," Culber said. "Commander Stamets. He's from a alternate future."

"Did we win?" Georgiou inquired.

"We did," Culber said. "that's all he would tell me." Georgiou was relieved. "But he could have some PTSD."

"We will all need counseling after this war," Georgiou said. "After all we have seen," she briefly closed her eyes then opened them glancing toward the officer in the two piece blue patient outfit. She looked toward the doctor. "We won't use this war veteran's knowledge and instead, he will be stationed on Earth. He deserves it."

"Commander Stamets expressed his dislike of being stationed on a planet that could be conquered by the Klingons," Culber said. "he will find a way back into the front and try to end the war."

"So you are saying its a bad idea," Georgiou said.

"It _is_ a bad idea," Culber said. "If anything, he will want to help us end our war."

"But he can't," Georgiou said. "Not with mushrooms at least," her eyes glanced toward his forearms to see blue implants. "And these better be removed before he awakens," she looked up toward the doctor. "Could Lieutenant Stamets have survived?"

"The power that the prototype shuttlecraft had likely killed my Paul instead of freeing him and sending him out into the normal timestream like the rest of us," Culber said.

"But the pocket universe is no longer active," Georgiou said.

"Destroyed, essentially," Culber said.

Georgiou looked down toward the man.

"We still have a expert in mushrooms," Georgiou said. "Perhaps he is useful after all."

* * *

Tilly was the first that morning to awaken. Her lazy eyes adjusted to the lighting in the room. The morning felt lazy and cozy to the ensign. Her vision adjusted to a mass in front of her face. It smelled, really bad. They were purple feet of the midshipman. Tilly turned her head then spotted Burnham's recognizable face pressed against the bed. Burnham's face was neutral, almost stoic fast asleep.

"Urgh," Purch, the midshipman, rolled off the bed landing on the floor.

Tilly looked over the bed.

"Good morning, Purch!" Tilly said.

"Mmm," Purch said. "Goooood."

Tilly came onto the side of the bed admiring the perfect woman. Burnham's short curly hair was laid on the edge of the bed. Her crop top had a strap that was partially off the shoulder. Her hands were laid on her lap - a position that Tilly found Burnham in when meditating on the bed in a sleep position. Tilly grabbed hold onto the edges of the bed with a giggle. Best way to wake up a wife. Tilly leaned down then planted a kiss onto Burnham's forehead. Burnham's lazy, tired eyes slowly opened looking up toward the ensign's direction.

"Headache?" Burnham inquired, raising a eyebrow.

"I didn't drink that many glasses," Tilly said.

"Excellent," Burnham said, then placed her hands onto the ensign's shoulders then planted a kiss onto her lips.

The next thing Tilly knew, Burnham was on top and she was on the bottom.

"I take it that we have awakened early before our shifts begin," Burnham said.

"Uh huh," Tilly said. "We have."

"It's 0500," Purch said, putting on his pants. The cadet slipped on his black socks. "I can't believe I got to spend the night with the legend."

"It would be prudent to prepare for your morning routine with Fezik," Burnham said.

"How did you know of that routine?" Purch said.

"Fezik is assigned to DASH engineering," Burnham said. "Fezik is a talker between shifts."

"This is embarrassing," Purch said, putting on his buttoned shirt decorated in flowers. "Thanks for letting me stay over," he began to button up the shirt quickly as he could. "I loved our threesome. Delightful!"

Purch sped out through the doorway.

"Finish what you started, Mikey," Tilly said.

Burnham nodded in agreement.

"From when?" Burnham asked.

"Oh, I think what you started with Purch after the party only better," Tilly said.

Burnham then took off her crop top and lowered herself down to Tilly. She kissed along the woman's neck. Burnham opened her side of the bond for Tilly letting out a sea of adoring, loving feelings crash over. Tilly squeezed Burnham's left nipple with her two fingers. The nipple arose slightly. She licked the tip of her tongue in circular motions. Burnham became still with a hand placed on the back of Tilly's head grasping on it possessively. After ten licks, Tilly puckered her lips around the nipple then suck gently with firmness to it. Her head popped up and down. Burnham fell to her side making Tilly crash with her on the bed earning a fit of laughter from them. The sound of Burnham's padd was loud and distinct. Burnham slid out of Tilly's grip then made her way over to the padd.

"Come baaack," Tilly said.

Burnham turned on the screen.

"Sylvia," Burnham said.

"Yes?" Tilly said.

"How long did the party last?" Burnham asked.

"A few hours," Tilly said.

"This states it lasted for days," Burnham observed.

"I knew the sex was too good to be true!" Tilly said.

"And I have been promoted to first officer," Burnham said.

"Really?" Tilly said.

"It is directly from Starfleet command," Burnham said. "Authorized by Admiral Terral and ordered by Admiral Georgiou."

"What of we were in a time loop and we just got out of it?" Tilly asked.

"That would make sense," Burnham said. "I only need affirmation by Admiral Georgiou."

"Oooohh," Tilly said. "She doesn't know you're bonded and all, does she?"

"Not yet," Burnham said.

"GET UP AND GET WRECKED!" Tilly called, amusingly falling onto the floor.

"I shall," Burnham said. "Been too long since we have talked face to face."

Burnham came over to the machine then inputted her uniform code. Instead of the familiar three piece blue uniform appeared a gold shirt. She picked it up then came back over toward the bed. She held up the gold shirt to face the turtle neck and below that a black shirt lacking sleeves or a neck collar. Burnham slid on the black shirt then the warm gold shirt over it. Tilly smiled at the sight. To Tilly, Burnham was like a shining beacon in the dark. Radiating beauty in its finest. The brightness complimented her skin and aesthetic.

* * *

"Philippa," Burnham said, coming into the observation deck out of the light pouring into the dark room.

Georgiou turned from the observation window toward the approaching first officer.

"Michael," Georgiou greeted back, welcomingly. "Last time we were here. . ." Burnham came to the Admiral's side. Shoulder to shoulder they stood. "War was breaking out, you were leaving, and I was promoted. . ." Georgiou sighed, shaking her head. "Oh how the tables have turned."

"We were aboard Starbase 1, then," Burnham said. "I have heard the construction on the newer version is going along nicely."

"They have carpeted the place," Georgiou said, turning her attention onto the planet. "It is everything that a commander would ever want. Perhaps I might want to be stationed there."

"You know as I do that Malaysia is where your heart belongs," Burnham said.

"Yes, it is," Georgiou said. "It will be good to go there after the war. You and I for old times sake."

"We will have company," Burnham said.

"Friends?" Georgiou said, returning her attention onto Burnham. "I can accommodate for that."

"Philippa," Burnham said.

"Yes?" Georgiou said.

"There is a matter I wish to discuss," Burnham said.

"If you are resigning again on me then I am afraid that you cannot wiggle out of your reactivated commission," Georgiou said. "I made sure it stuck." Burnham looked bemused by the older woman.

"No, it is not that. This must be old news to you and we must talk about it," Burnham said, as Georgiou tilted her head with a confused look in her eyes. "T'Pau or Sarek must have told you."

"What matter?" Georgiou said.

"My property status," Burnham said.

"I thought she was kidding," Georgiou said.

"There is no reason for a Vulcan to joke," Burnham said. "nor do they kid."

"I should have realized that," Georgiou said.

"Tilly and I share the bond just like we do," Burnham said. "Only it has been consummated in the heat of Pon Farr. And she is open for more members in our union."

Georgiou smiled warmly back at the first officer.

"It is good to see you again," Georgiou said, holding her two fingers out for Burnham.

Burnham completed the ozh'esta with a private smile toward the older woman.

"You as well," Burnham said.

* * *

Paul's eyes opened to a familiar sick bay yet the feel was different and so was the atmosphere. He turned his head to see a familiar face with a different hair style and she was in command gold. Her hands were linked behind her back with a thin starfleet badge above her right breast. There was blue as primary. There was no zipper. No lighter blue shoulder padds. His mind screamed loudly in protest against what he was seeing. He done it. Stamets went on a suicide mission to save the ship and Hugh. He regained his composure.

"Good morning," Paul said.

"Your efforts to help the time loop have been noted, Lieutenant," Burnham said. "You have been promoted to Lieutenant Commander."

"And you got promoted to full Commander?" Paul asked.

Burnham nodded.

"It seems I played a part in that as well," Burnham said. "They could have assigned a new first officer."

"Michael," Paul said, leaned up against the biobed. "You are the most capable officer I ever met."

"Perhaps," Burnham said. "Ephraim is taking over the navigator position."

"I look forward to seeing Ephraim again," Paul said. "Been too long since I seen my favorite person of the day."

"On the bright side, we do not need to use Doctor Culber for the big jumps," Burnham said. "Tilly and I are going to hold our first bonding ceremony anniversary in six months, would you like to attend?"

"I would love to," Paul said, earning the smallest of smiles grow on the woman's face.

Burnham held her hand up.

"Live long and prosper," Burnham said, then she walked away.

Culber came over.

"Good morning, Commander nightmare," Culber said, in a bemused tone of voice.

"He killed me," Paul said. "He fucking killed me after we had sex. Shot me in the back. Why would he do that?"

"You told him the plan," Culber said.

"Yes, yes, yes," Paul said.

"That was your first mistake," Culber said.

"And so was talking about you," he looked down toward his hands. "I should have seen it coming. My third mistake was saying yes to his request to have sex. My fourth mistake was going into a lab that he chose. My fifth mistake was getting undressed. My sixth mistake was enjoying having sex with myself."

"How did that feel?" Culber asked.

"Good, actually," Paul said. "And my seventh mistake was having my back turned on him."

"It's a mistake anyone would have made," Culber said.

"If he had failed to reach the hole, then he would be here and I possibly might be home," Paul said. "And a fraud wouldn't be here."

"Is your name Paul Stamets?" Culber asked.

"Yes," Paul said, sadly.

"Then you're not a fraud, Paul," Culber said.

"I never went through what your partner experienced in this life," Paul said. "Everything is different down from the uniforms to the aesthetic! Right down to the molecule." he shook his index finger with hand on his knee. "I am not native to this universe, Hugh."

"Just because you're not a native doesn't mean you're too different from my Paul," Hugh said. "My Paul would have did all that he could to get out of the loop. Maybe go a little crazy over it, intensely frustrated, and become more bold."

"He wouldn't have failed saving you," Paul said.

"If he had failed, it would have been the last try for the ship," Culber said.

"Last try," Paul said.

Culber nodded.

"The hole was shrinking according to Osowekun's instruments," Culber explained. "There would have only been enough room for a line of escape pods to go through the next time around. Lorca would have insisted to stay behind. Landry would have stayed. Burnham would have stayed, Airiam would have stayed. Tilly would have stayed. Osowekun and Detmer would have stayed. Tyler would have stayed. And L'Rell. . ."

"I didn't see L'Rell in the brig in the loops," Paul said.

"Looks like you need a briefing of what we experienced," Culber said. "I'll start off from our first month on the Discovery and see where things are different-"

"Are we still boyfriends?" Paul interrupted.

"We've been married for the past ten years," Culber said, with a look of disbelief.

"No," Paul said. "let's start from the beginning. At the cafe. You were humming Kasseelian Opera."

"Then you told me to shut up," Culber said.

"So you came over to the seat beside me and hummed even louder," Paul said, earning a smile from Culber.

"Not that different after all," Culber said.

* * *

The scene panned into the purple transporter room. Paul seemed to be looking at it in awe now giving it a hard look. A real hard good look. The differences between the transporter rooms were great. Very different when compared to the gray transporter room with a black and blue paint job on the back of the main machine. Beside Paul sat L'Rell who was shaking the hand of the departing captain. By Lorca's side was Tyler holding two duffle bags in both arms.

"It has been a honor to know you, Captain Lorca," L'Rell said, shaking his hand.

"It was my honor to know you long as I did," Lorca said, with a weathered smile. "Keep up the good work, Lieutenant Commander L'Rell."

"I do not deserve being recognized by the rank I ruined," L'Rell said.

"By Starfleet eyes. you have redeemed that rank," Lorca said, as their hand shake ended. He turned toward Landry. "When you see Voq again. . ."

"I will deliver your displeasure." Landry said.

"Good," Lorca said, with a nod.

Burnham came into the transporter room with linked hands.

"Captain," Burnham said. "I have retrieved your support pet." she unlinked her had from behind her back approaching the captain.

"Knew I was forgetting something," Lorca said, taking Merkin from her smaller hands. He looked up toward the woman. "Best be good for your new captain."

"That will not be a problem,'" Burnham said.

"We are well adjusted to each other," Landry said.

"Agreed," Burnham said.

"Just what I wanted to hear," Lorca said, then he came over toward Paul. "Thanks for getting us out of there," he looked over toward Culber. "Both of you," his eyes faced the two with a smile. "Your reports was very informative."

"It is too bad we didn't get to know each other," Paul said.

"We got to know each other quite well, Commander Stamets," Lorca said. "You're a fine officer and I hope you get your lab back after the war."

Paul didn't know what to say as he realized just what the mirror Lorca had robbed the crew of. It made him more upset that change was coming like a hurricane that could not be stopped. A uncertain future aboard the most optimistic variation of the Discovery, yet. The hopeful, optimistic man standing before him with brighter blue eyes than usual. There was kindness radiating off him. A truly good man. It was a shame that Paul didn't take the loops as a opportunity to get to know him more. If he had tried, it would have been unsuccessful and seen Lorca even worse than he had been. He had only seen the angry, stubborn, and desperate side of him in the time loop. He felt bad for the captain. Without the Discovery, the war could very much kill him.

"Me too," Paul said. It came out as empty words.

"I expect to see all of you at United Federation Headquarters for your medal of honors after the war," Lorca said, as he went on to the transporter padd.

"We will make sure that happens," Landry said. Lorca and Tyler faced the group. "See you next year, Gabe. Energize."

Before Paul's eyes the two figures in orange light then they were replaced by Ephraim.

"Captain Landry," Ephraim said. "Pleased to be at your service."

"Welcome back, Commander Ephraim," Landry said, as Paul looked over toward Culber with a startled expression.

"Permission to come aboard?" Ephraim asked.

"Permission granted," Landry said.

Paul watched the Tardigrade like officer walk off the transporter padd in sheer awe.


	38. Near to a shuttle emergency

"Going into Klingon territory to discard L'Rell?" Burnham asked, walking along the side of Landry. "That is risky, Captain."

"Risk is our business, Number One," Landry said. "L'Rell has been a great consultant in the war against the rogue Klingons."

"Except Starfleet Command requests a able consultant from Qo'Nos," Burnham added. "Willing Klingons are not easy to come by."

"And we found one," Landry said.

"We were lucky that we were able to retrieve her alive," Burnham reminded. "Let alone rescuing the survivors of the Yeager and Captain Lorca. Did you not listen to Admiral Terral? Attempting to retrieve a living Klingon informant will only end in their death. If we tried that, it will be crushing to the crew morale."

"At this state, we are being crushed," Landry said. "Some Klingons might want the war over with."

"The war is unpopular with the Klingons that xenoanthropologists are familiar to and rogue Klingons are joining in greater numbers than before," Burnham elaborated. "There is a conflict between these sides. We could someday use that to our advantage to end the war, but this? This is not a bright idea."

"How is that?" Landry humored Burnham.

"We could pick up their version of a Klingon Supremacist instead of a traditional, open minded and reasonable Klingon," Burnham said. Landry flinched. "They could give us bad advice," she took the captain's shoulder with a firm grip. "Attacking the Klingons that we want help from!"

"It is a possibility that I have been opened to," Landry said, as Burnham let go yanking her hand back.

"L'Rell has answered questions about the Klingons that we have never had answered," Burnham said.

"That the admirals have appreciated," Landry said. "This new asset knows what the rogue Klingons are planning and its best to be there for their next move."

"Getting another consultant would be a slap to the face," Burnham said. "Has she sacrificed enough? Her legs? Her honor? Her house?"

"You told me that she will be ready to commit suicide should the war end," Landry said.

"Only when it goes in our favor," Burnham said.

Landry looked over toward the first officer.

"Isn't two better than one?" Landry asked.

"Kidnapping and hostage taking is not what Starfleet stands for," Burnham asked.

"It seems that is what Starfleet has become," Landry said. "I don't like it. These are our orders." Landry sighed. "Starfleet Command requests that L'Rell be taken to a planet that they have conquered and be taken to a remote destination," Burnham stopped in her tracks. "Then leave her behind and return to the ship with a new Klingon consultant up to date with what is going on in Voq's inner circle."

"No," Burnham said.

Landry turned.

"She can't stay," Landry said.

"I speak for the crew, captain," Burnham said. "No. We cannot toss her aside. No. We will not toss aside one of our own. No. We will not treat her like a . . ." Burnham rightened her jaw while shaking her head and glaring back at the captain. "Like she has outlived her usefulness."

"Then what do you suggest?" Landry asked, approaching the woman. "Using her months old information?"

"Yes," Burnham said.

"That location are being used as a military installation with a colony for the rogue Klingons," Landry said. "Trying to take that back would be suicide."

"Captain," Burnham said. "What L'Rell said in the meeting didn't mean take it back. She meant destroy it."

"We are not here to kill innocents," Landry said.

Burnham raised her baffled eyebrows back at the woman.

"It's the base we are destroying, not the Klingons," Burnham said. "Key players are going to be there. Voq is going to be there."

"His plans might have changed and he won't be there," Landry said.

"This is a standard meeting that happens every few months on a designated day," Burnham said. "Every individual is paid four thousand four hundred thirty-three darseks to attend every month. They give their word and they keep it after being payed handsomely."

"How do you suggest that we get one thousand rogue Klingons out of that facility and keep the key players in there," Landry said.

"Not my suggestion," Burnham said. "It is L'Rell's."

* * *

Burnham ran into the shuttle craft holding L'Rell in her arms. Klingons were in the distance running after the women. L'Rell had onto her D'k tahg that dripped with the blood of her fallen enemies. One half of Burnham's uniform was torn off leaving a distinct scar that went down her shoulder over her breast. Parts of her sleeves were missing while a half of it still clung onto her by a thread. She had a stoic mask compared to the pleased Klingon.

"Mission is a success," Burnham said. "It is time to leave this planet."

"And the journey continues," Bryce said, as the door closed behind the two. "Shuttlecraft disembarking," he looked over his shoulder. The shuttlecraft lifted above the ground seemingly hovering floating into the sky. "What happened to the hoverchair?"

Burnham seated L'Rell into the chair.

"It is part of the detonation," Burnham said, seating herself across from the Klingon.

"Oh shit," Bryce said.

The shuttlecraft flew away from the facility.

The camera sat there watching the facility for a full minute.

Then the calm, serene facility exploded sending large pieces of land flying and roof collapsed.

Several Klingon Bird Of Prey's flew out from around it chasing after the escaping Starfleet culprits headed toward space. Cheering erupted from inside the shuttle craft as the camera came toward it. It came through the front window. The shuttlecraft trembled violently as red lighting replaced the white aesthetic. Burnham grabbed hold onto the arm rest of the chair. Bryce leaned to the side setting in coordinates. He had a firm hold on the console. He flew in the direction of a Klingon Bird of Prey dangerously close then flew off as a phaser shot flew toward it. Part of the Klingon's bird of prey wing was crippled, sending it flying sideways. The other vessels drew back out of the way watching it flying toward the ground. The shuttlecraft appeared to be heavily damaged from the outside soaring out of the clouds right into space.

"Shuttlecraft Tesla to Discovery," Bryce said. "We are on our way. Mission has been a success. Will be meeting up in the rendezvous point."

L'Rell fiddled with a thin brown item trailing down her fingers.

"Voq is not dead," L'Rell said.

Burnham looked over toward the consultant.

"What makes you say that?" Burnham asked.

"As war general - as humans say - are always paranoid that people are out to get them," L'Rell said. "During war, high-ranking Klingons are not different in that aspect."

"For good reason," Bryce said.

"That could mean he is preparing to launch a offensive attack against us," L'Rell said.

"He isn't prepared for me," Bryce said. "Hold on to your seats!"

"This was not worth the triiiip," L'Rell said, as the shuttlecraft twirled.

"On the contrary, it was," Burnham said. Burnham observed L'Rell covering her mouth with one hand. "Mister Bryce, it would be wise to pick a more convenient defense strategy."

"It would be when we had back up," Bryce said. "Or a large mine field to get the Klingons lost."

"We do not need puke landing on your face," Burnham said.

"Which one of you has to puke?" Bryce asked.

"L'Rell," Burnham said.

The shuttle craft stopped twirling coming to a swaying motion from side to side. L'Rell turned to her side then threw up what she had eaten that morning. She wiped off what was left behind along her mouth using her sleeve. She lacked a rank on both sleeves. The two women relaxed once the familiar sight of passing stars appeared on the screen. Bryce remained tense with eyes darting toward the console. The shields were down at fifty four percent to the shuttlecraft. It was dangerously close to being not up at all. Burnham slipped off her yellow shirt then took off the badge slipping it on to the pant pocket where it stuck.

* * *

Landry stared at the screen, skeptical. Landry rubbed her chin with cautious eyes. There was silence from the woman. She looked over her shoulder where her first officer would normally be then toward space that displayed a large blanket of space peering back at her. It felt like company was all around. Comforting company for the least. Burnham's absence was felt on the bridge. Detmer looked up from her station up toward the moon that they were behind. A habitable moon with a atmosphere, sea, and continents. It was a beautiful sight from the bridge. Airiam observed Landry's demeanor. Airiam turned from her station then came over to the woman's side.

"Captain," Airiam said. "I noticed you are bothered. Care to talk about it?"

"It can't be this easy to pull off a successful mission," Landry said.

"Everything is odd when it comes to war," Airiam said.

"We came out of a time loop last month to see Starfleet in bad shape," Landry said. "It is like . . ."

"Seeing a beloved aging pet facing illnesses and suffering," Airiam said. "and there is nothing you can do since the illness is unknown."

"Exactly," Landry said. "Even with what we do. . . " she placed her hands onto her lap. "All it is doing is keeping the Klingons at bay." she shook her head briefly closing her eyes then looked up with a sigh. "I don't know how of lately these missions have been being pulled off so easily."

"We have hope on our side," Airiam said.

"Wishful thinking is all we have," Landry said.

"It is what keeps this crew going," Airiam said.

"I find it strange that it our wishful thinking is coming true," she looked toward the robotic like woman. "Is it wrong to feel that?"

"No," Airiam said. "as your second officer, I say that cause for concern about winning is properly needed."

Landry nodded, as Airiam placed a hand on the captain's shoulder then had a gentle squeeze.

"Thank you," Landry said. "To your station, Commander Airiam." Airiam returned to the DASH station as Landry's eyes returned to space while bracing herself internally for what state of being the returned shuttlecraft would be. She turned in the direction of the young man with dark hair. "Lieutenant Richter, send a message to the Shenzhou that our plan has been successful. Unsure regarding Voq's status."

Richter nodded, placing the small earpiece into his ear.

"Aye, captain," Richter said.


	39. A shuttle crash

_"Things crash, tragedy happens, and it has been recorded in human history that something good grows out of it,"_ \- Michael Burnham regarding the end of a way mission as first officer of the Shenzhou and offering food for thought to Saru.

* * *

The shuttlecraft abruptly fell out of warp. The shuttlecraft flew in the direction of a nearby planet with smoke coming off a panel drifting to the back. The shuttlecraft pierced through the atmosphere of the planet while it trembled from side to side. One of the nacelles' rounded tips chipped off carving scars into the hull. Significant cracks in the hull were forming as the shuttlecraft descended at high velocity toward a Grand Canyon-like scenery. Patches of grass were few and in between below on the surface. The shuttlecraft broke into two pieces falling in different directions. The front end crashed into against a nearby cliff rolled down until it came to a stop on the edge of a cliff that had a wide berth. L'Rell dragged herself out of the chair. She made it over to the pilot's chair where his hands were still gripping onto the arm rests. A trail of blood was traveling down the corner of his head. L'Rell slid herself up against the console then pressed several buttons on the station at random.

The normal sound that would be heard from pressing a console button didn't come.

The gentle beeps that were expected did not happen

"Baktag!" L'Rell smacked the console making what remained of sparks sting her fist.

L'Rell turned over pressing her back against the console looking over toward the back end.

"Of course it needs a power source," L'Rell said.

L'Rell looked over and turned.

"It seems that Federation luck is not on my side today," L'Rell said.

* * *

Burnham's eyes opened with a deep exhale then coughed multiple times. She fell onto her side then looked toward the crumbled shuttlecraft end laid across from her. She rubbed her aching back leaning forward. There was bright light that made her head ache. She managed to get up onto her feet then rubbed her shoulder in a familiar pattern in a hurt like manner. Burnham stopped once she realized what she was doing and lowered her hand. She had scrapes on the side of her shoulders. Her chest had cuts here and there. Her Starfleet issued comfortable bra was partially unstrapped on her left shoulder. Burnham looked up toward the sublime mountain carved by nature herself.

Burnham saw the edge of the other side of the shuttle craft peeking on the edge.

"Lieutenant Bryce!" Burnham called, then cupped her hands together. "LIEUTENANT BRYCE."

Her voice echoed in the canyon.

"LIEUTENANT!" Burnham called.

Burham waited listening to her voice echo behind her.

"LIEUTENANT R A BRYCE!" Burnham repeated.

L'Rell poked her head off the edge.

"The lieutenant is unable to communicate," L'Rell asked.

"Is he alive?" Burnham inquired.

"Unconscious," L'Rell said.

"I will be on my way," Burnham said. "Stay away from the edge."

L'Rell nodded then dragged herself away from the edge.

"Alright, Michael," Burnham said. "Time to use all that rock climbing training with Pippa to good use."

Burnham went into the other end of the shuttle craft the came out with two long green curled robes.

"I will be up, soon." Burnham called. "Do not panic!"

Burnham hooked a metal bind to the backside of her Starfleet emblem then looped the rope into it.

"Here goes nothing," Burnham said, then threw the object toward the cliff edge.

Her eyes watched the green rope fly then fell in front of her feet.

"Try and try again," Burnham noted to herself, picking up the insignia. "Until you achieve. Disappointment is expected."

Burnham swung five more times with her aim on the cliff coming to the same result each time. On the sixth try, her insignia hooked onto a crevice. She tugged on the insignia three times then glanced up toward the edge. Burnham put her foot firmly on a piece of rock that stood out. She began to make her ascent up. With each stride she made it closer to the top without a sweat. Burnham placed her hand on to the ground once slipping against a piece of rock that fell. L'Rell reached out grabbing hold onto the first officer's wrist. Burnham retained her calm demeanor staring back at the consultant. L'Rell drew her on to the ground out of harms way. Burnham landed by L'Rell's side. L'Rell looked over the edge of the cliff.

"How do we get down?" L'Rell asked, then looked over toward Burnham. "Commander."

"Hold onto that thought, L'Rell," Burnham said, going into the other half of the shuttle craft then came back out with another insignia. "What I have in mind will be very odd."

"Odd is what I volunteered my services for," L'Rell said.

"Excellent," Burnham said. "Then you won't mind sending you down to the roof of the back half."

"That I have no quarrels with," L'Rell said.

* * *

Saru walked out of the transporter room with the new transferred officer.

Saru's long arms swayed behind him as he strolled down the corridor giving a a rough outline of what to expect.

The poor navigating officer seemed to be scared as he looked around the darker than usual starship.

The navigator held the black duffel bag with blue Starfleet Command emblems on both sides. It seemed to be stuffed more than an average duffel bag would be. The mood of the ship had turned from bright and light to dark and gloomy. Saru didn't like the lighting but it was satisfactory to Georgiou. He remembered the way it used to be on the Shenzhou. It was brighter back then. The grim and gritty Shenzhou didn't feel a little bit like the old. Over fifty six days, he had watched the Captain transform to hopeful, bright, and diplomatic into someone who was none of the three. She was different. Hopeless, strategic, and miserable while submerged into a human version of grief. Slowly that hope had been coming back over the past month after the return of the Discovery.

"And that is all you need to know about being a crew member of the Shenzhou," Saru finished. "Ensign Evernest."

Evernest looked up toward the Kelpien.

"Does the bridge ever get attacked?" Evernest asked.

"Hardly," Saru said. "As a navigator, you will find it a safe place to be."

"A friend of mine told me about the bridge of the Shran being attacked," Evernest said. "They lost their captain. They were standing there one minute on the center and the next they were sucked out before their eyes. Right after the Discovery went lost with all hands aboard."

"Rest assured, the bridge is less likely to be attacked in such a manner," Saru said. "Besides, it has been reinforced."

"You mean this has happened before," Evernest said.

"No," Saru replied. "It is best to be prepared for the unexpected."

"Starfleet wasn't really thinking that way before the Klingons came out of the woodwork and started spreading terror," Evernest said.

"Rogue Klingons," Saru corrected. "Klingons have no interest in starting a war with the Federation and Starfleet."

"They are all the same," Evernest said.

Saru looked over toward the ensign.

"They are not all the same," Saru said, then turned his attention off feeling unsettled by looking at the human.

"If you say so, Commander," Evernest said.

Saru came to a stop at the doors.

"These are your assigned quarters," Saru said. "And your roommate. . ." he glanced toward the doorway then toward the ensign. "Is half Klingon."

Evernest's face fell.

"B-b-b-b-but Klingons are not allowed," Evernest said. "I can't share a room with those god awful aliens."

" _Listen_ to yourself, Ensign," Saru said.

Evernest stiffened.

"Yes, sir," Evernest said.

"Talk like that got your world into World War 3, brought humanity nearly down to extinction," Saru reminded. "and it is not tolerated on this ship. Suppose your roommate was an Andorian . . ." Evernest's eyes fell as it occurred what he had fallen into. "Imagine if we were in a war against the Andorians instead of the Klingons," Evernest sulked. "Warriors just like Klingons with their own values and culture. They are considered the most loyal species in the Federation. It could turn out that Klingons are loyal just like them should they join the federation. Hate has no place in Starfleet. If you continue spewing hate about the Klingons in general then your term of service in Starfleet will be short-lived and very bitter."

Evernest nodded his head.

"I understand," Evernest said.

"Do you?" Saru said, skeptically.

"Yes, sir," Evernest said.

"Then write a five to ten page essay in Times New Roman, double spaced, text format 2," Saru said.

"What will the topic be about?" Evernest asked.

"About hate and how it will affect Starfleet should it become a wide spread problem. It is due at the end of this week," Saru said. "Good day, Ensign." And then Saru walked away.

Saru made his way down the hall letting go of the relief of ending the conversation.

So being a first officer was not at all what everyone had thought it to be keeping hate infecting duty.


	40. Air that is still

"Cornwell, we are not going there!" Georgiou shouted.

"We can clean up the mess afterwards," Terral said.

Georgiou looked disgusted at the holographic representations of Starfleet Command in attendance.

"We will not," Georgiou said. "The Discovery took out some of the major players."

"Voq is planning to wipe out several Starbases and colonies," Terral said. "We can not stand by and watch people lose their lives over bases that have no defenses."

"And how do you know this?" Georgiou asked.

"We have informants," Terral said, dryly.

"Look, we have not much of a choice," Cornwell said.

"You are insisting we perform genocide against the Klingons," Georgiou said.

"That is where most of the rogue Klingons are based," Terral said.

"It's unethical," Georgiou said.

"It's the only way," Cornwell said.

"I propose we make them fight against each other," Georgiou said. "start a fight."

"That would make a new enemy," Anderson said. "the war wouldn't end."

"They are not interested in fighting a lost cause against us!" Georgiou replied. "Our enemies can become our friends."

"These enemies have teeth," Anderson said. "It would take a miracle to capture Voq alive, let alone kill him." Saru entered the conference room with one arm swaying behind him while his other hand was holding a cup of tea. A cup of tea that he handed off to Georgiou.

Georgiou slowly sat down into the chair then took a sip and glanced up toward the other admirals.

"What if they don't raid the starbases and instead take them over?" Georgiou asked.

"It wouldn't happen," Anderson said. "They are determined on making sure we never existed."

"Now that is a possible situation," Cornwell agreed.

"We don't give up," Georgiou said. "I have faith in the Discovery."

"We almost lost the Glenn to the rogue Klingons two weeks ago," Terral said. "We cannot risk any more Starfleet property and lives in this senseless war."

"Have faith in the Discovery," Georgiou said. "and Commander Burnham."

Anderson and Cornwell eyed the admiral.

"The chances of a miracle are bleak," Cornwell said. "we are going ahead."

"Alright," Georgiou said. "you going to be aboard the ship? Anyone I should know leading it?"

"Captain Constaza is awaiting the order," Anderson said.

"Me and Constaza are very good friends, " Georgiou said. "she won't like having blood in her hands. Does she know the shipment she has aboard her vessel?" there was silence in the room. "Does she know? Did you lie to her about what is in her cargo bay?" she stood up. "Does she know why she is stationed close to Qo'nos?"

"Classified mission," Terral said.

"Retrieving a informant from Qo'Nos," Anderson said.

"Do not interfere with the mission," Cornwell said. "it's out of your hands."

"So it appears," Georgiou said, with a nod. "I was once in your mind set. Never again." She reached forward and pressed a button on her station.

Saru looked down toward the admiral.

"Should USS Mae be informed not to empty cargo bay?" Saru asked.

"Quickly," Georgiou said.

"On my way," Saru said.

Saru left the room in a fast stride.

Georgiou took another sip from her glass.

She could hear the non-existent screams of the terrified Klingons ringing in her ears. She could see the cities falling apart once engulfed into flames. She could see the green planet turning red before her eyes from all corners. Klingons attempting to flee the disaster only to end up vaporized. Survivors seeking for help while appearing to a dead warrior walking. Klingons in the middle of hunting, patiently, and silently. The native wildlife fleeing before the Klingon could let go of their old fashioned weapon then turning their heads to see the end coming toward them. She took another sip from the tea cup and lowered the cup onto the table. Starfleet had become desperate and it seemed that hope was little more than a word. It seemed as though Starfleet itself had entered into darkness.

* * *

Bryce's eyes opened to see a small fire from across. He was pressed against a big body of wood. Burnham was meditating beside him on the ground. She had a calm and serene aesthetic to her. The flames made beautiful shadows against her skin and her body. The stars seemingly outlined her head. It was awe-inspiring and odd at once. He remembered keeping a grip over the console. He remembered the shuttlecraft losing warp over loss of power. The sounds of metal breaking loudly. Burnham moving L'Rell to her seat then going into the original seat that L'Rell had been. A quick moment of action that could have saved her life. Risky choice of action. His eyes looked over to see both halves of the shuttle craft were pushed together with the faint lines of the damage seen visibly.

"Hello, Liuetenant," L'Rell said.

Bryce looked over toward L'Rell.

"Nice to see a familiar face awake," Bryce said, jokingly.

L'Rell nodded in agreement.

"I initially believed you were never going to wake up from the head injury," L'Rell admitted.

"What?" Bryce asked. "Klingons sometimes don't wake up from a head injury?"

"A never ending sleep," L'Rell said. "You humans are more resilient than what Klingons thought."

"I thought Klingons wouldn't have a problem with that," Bryce said. "Redundancy in their bodies."

"The way you are saying it makes it seem we have two heads," L'Rell said.

"Yeah, no," Bryce said. "I mean to say it seems that. . . your brain could come back faster from injuries to it."

"We have a secondary brain system," L'Rell said.

"Ahhh," Bryce said. "So they injure the head twice to make it permanent?"

"Something like that," L'Rell said. "We are in Voq's territory."

"I'mma kick their ass," Bryce said.

L'Rell looked over raising a eyebrow ridge at the man.

"You are in no position to do so," L'Rell said. "We will be slaughtered and discarded."

"Is it going to be a quick slaughter?" Bryce asked.

"Depends if Voq will attend," L'Rell said. "All we can do is wait and be patient."

"We'll get out of this in one piece," Bryce said, confidently.

"Why are you so confident on the eve of your death?" L'Rell asked. "I have seen officers aboard the Discovery go out to their deaths with a smile and hopeful. Not bold and grim."

"Hope is all we got," Bryce said. "if we let misery fall on us then we would lose the war and everything good about the United Federation of Planets, Starfleet, and everything about life. We have to march forward not run away."

"Most Klingons would back off and come back with better allies," L'Rell said. "I've been keeping up with the losses."

"We have all the allies we need to end the war," Bryce said. "My head hurts."

L'Rell looked curiously at the injured communications officer then held out a stick.

"Eat," L'Rell offered, holding out what seemed a roasted animal attached to a stick.

"Uh no," Bryce said. "That isn't treated."

"Humans have survived off worse," L'Rell said. "Such as eating squids."

"Those were dead!" Bryce said. "They were also safe to eat!"

"Like chocolate ants?" L'Rell suggested

"They are nutritional, okay?" Bryce said.

"So is this," L'Rell said.

"Why you-" Bryce took the stick then bit into the back of the rat like animal then yanked it back chewing on the meat while glaring back back at her and handed it back.

"Finish it," L'Rell said, holding a hand out in decline.

Bryce took the stick back and resumed chewing.

* * *

Burnham awakened from her long rest within the shuttle craft.

L'Rell was covered in a Starfleet issued blue blanket.

Bryce was resting across from L'Rell against the wall with a very special adjustable pillow.

Burnham was resting beside the doorway. She stood up to her feet feeling Tilly's worry through their link. She slid the door open then hopped out of the shuttle craft. Burnham brought along her Starfleet rope. She swung it at the cliff side again, tugged it, then began the climb. She made it to the top plotting her way back down during the climb as a way of means of returning to the group. It took one hour to reach the top. Burnham collected large pieces of rock then formed two words. A move that could be wise. L'Rell and Burnham had spoken about it at length. If it could work, it would give Starfleet a edge in the war. Or perhaps hand the Discovery over to a dark time in command. She stepped back after making the two words. Burnham made the climb down the cliff with the rope wrapped around her shoulder. Her fingers were covered in dirt, chipped, and covered in scratches shielding her mind off from Tilly. She made it down to the base in a hour with kind, well made patience.

Burnham stabbed a large, muscular rat with a long stick.

The large, muscular rat only was able to scream once then die before her eyes.

"TURN THE ALARM OFF!" Bryce called.

"Ssssh, small human," L'Rell hissed back.

"No, you sssh," Bryce said.

"Do not make me smack you," L'Rell replied.

"Fine," Bryce said

Burnham collected more pieces of sticks to the rounded center that had been constructed while carrying the long stick. It was very fat enough to be cooked then sliced into three pieces. The head and hindquarters were off the table. The arms were covered in fat. Thick fat. Burnham peeled off the skin using a sharp rock. The contraption that L'Rell made with the help of four sticks were still up and ready. Burnham placed it onto the contraption. She started the fire. This was enough for breakfast while they waited. She cleaned her hands off in the small pond nearby. Bryce took off his red shirt coming over to the cooking fireplace. Burnham returned rubbing her hands.

"Good morning, Lieutenant," Burnham said.

"I trust you slept well," Bryce said.

"That I have," Burnham said. "Are you with us should our plan to get off this planet not be in your interests?"

"I like to get this cut healed properly," Bryce said. "and a brain scan to see if anything is messed up."

"Yes or no will suffice, Lieutenant," Burnham said.

"I am with you," Bryce said. Bryce smiled. "Then we will get off this planet in one piece." Burnham nodded in return.

"Indeed," Burnham said, then turned her attention onto the cooking breakfast.

* * *

"Captain, captain, captain!" Tilly ran into the captain's cabin speeding into the office. Landry looked up from the padd toward the woman.

"Ensign," Landry said. "What brings you here?"

"The shuttle is in Klingon territory," Tilly said.

"I know you share a link with the Commander but being told she is in Klingon territory is not helpful," Landry said. "Very vague."

"She is on a planet that belongs to Voq," Tilly said. "L'Rell and Bryce are alive but injured."

"He has conquered a lot of planets, some of them federation," Landry said. "And the next Klingon vessel is going to have him aboard. She doesn't know when. But it will be soon." Landry cupped her hands together looking toward the Ensign with curiousity. "She thinks there is a way that Starfleet can end the war."

"Can we get him alive?" Landry said.

"There is a good chance that he won't," Tilly said. "And the war ending. It will be eventful but it will be over."

"That is not good enough," Landry said.

"She knows," Tilly said. "She has hope that it will not happen."

"We need him to face trial for what he did," Landry said. "His honor has to be taken away so they can stop fighting his war. We need them to see him alive," Landry placed her hands to her lap. "And I doubt that even if they kill him it will do anything to end the war. Tilly, whatever Burnham is planning, it will not work unless the rogue Klingons have decided to end the war."

Tilly nodded.

"She understands that," Tilly said. "She just wanted you to know."

"I appreciate her thought," Landry said. "I will inform Starfleet command and hopefully, we don't have to see how the war concludes." she waved her hand, dismissingly. "You are dismissed, Ensign."

Tilly walked out of the office. Landry turned away, her hands balling up into fists. She was angry at how the war against the rogue Klingons had turned against Starfleet. They were winning, initially, and now they were not winning as often. She stood up then came over to one of the windows. She looked down to see a planet that was below. A planet they were assigned to protect. Her hands were linked behind her back. The USS Isaacs was still out there including fifty percent of Starfleet. Fifty percent was smaller than the mere 80 percent that they had came into the time loop in the first place. She smacked the wall then pressed her head against the window with her hand alongside. Her eyes looked down toward the floor aimlessly. She felt helpless to the storm that could not be stopped headed toward Earth.

"Eve of death, silence in the air, people walking around with hope on their hearts, and death coming in silently behind them," Landry said. "it is the beginning of the end."

* * *

Ten hours passed on the planet.

Burnham had eased and calmed Tilly from long distance.

L'Rell was impressed by the human keeping her demeanor when she could die at any moment.

Bryce was not keeping himself well together regarding the issue. His hands were trembling while he sat down on a log after spending so many hours on a single task. He was sharpening occasionally a stick then hiding it in his boots as though they could pose him help in a fight for his life. Burnham was mediating inside the shuttlecraft. The air was still on the bottom of the canyon. As though if movement was attempted then it would result in a terrible storm. It was eerie like even for a Klingon. Listening to Bryce speaking in his nap was far more odd than the silent commander who tossed and turned. She had caught Bryce once about to walk out the shuttlecraft that previous night and talked him back in. Listening to the hissing, howls, and the shuttle tremble at night as though something shook it attempting to get food. There were scars on the side of the shuttlecraft that acted as evidence. She had good eyes to see in the dark for moving rogue Klingon Bird Of Preys. They had eaten three fat rats and no one had a single clue on what they were eating to get so far.

Burnham theorized there was a city up ahead with natives.

Bryce suggested there must be a lot of food lying around.

And L'Rell believed there must be dead bodies laid about-then she saw one,

"Commander Burnham!" L'Rell called.

Burnham poked her head out of the shuttlecraft.

"Yes?" Burnham asked.

"The Bird of Prey is in orbit," L'Rell replied, as the first officer came out of the shuttle.

Bryce straightened his regulation shirt looking toward the first officer then toward L'Rell.

"Do they have any beef over you?" Bryce asked.

L'Rell looked at the communications officer.

". . . They don't have meat for me to eat," L'Rell said. "Hardly willing to feed me as one of their own."

"He means, do they have anything against you?" Burnham said.

"I was in a cell," L'Rell reminded.

"To kill you," Bryce clarified.

"No, not really," L'Rell said.

Burnham joined the two by the side.

"Follow my lead," Burnham said, slapping the Starfleet insignia on her pants. "The fate of everything we hold dear rests on this mission."

"Do I get to kick rogue Klingon ass?" Bryce asked.

"Possibly," Burnham said.

"I am good with it," Bryce said. "How about you?" he looked over toward L'Rell.

"I do not look forward to seeing a mockery of a house that welcomed me," L'Rell said, shamefully.

"You are part of a larger force that welcomes you in the eve of a battle's end," Burnham said, optimistically.

"That I am," L'Rell agreed, as in a red light appeared a squad of Klingons across from them. She looked up toward Burnham. "I am honored to serve you, Commander Burnham."


	41. What is worth being Klingon for?

Burnham was shoved into a cell with Bryce.

Burnham landed in front of the wall across from Bryce.

L'Rell was separated from the two Starfleet officers by two Klingon officers who took a stair case up to the bridge. The old fashioned manner of traveling from parts of a ship used back in the naval history of Earth. Burnham heard L'Rell's feet being dragged behind her. A Klingon tossed in two outfits into the cell in front of the two officers. The cell door came back into place. Bryce turned around from Burnham and whistled to himself. Burnham put on the gray slightly large shirt and figure fitting pants.

"You can turn around now," Burnham instructed.

Bryce put on the gray shirt then applied the Starfleet insignia onto his chest.

"What is the plan?" Bryce asked.

Burnham looked over toward Bryce.

"We wait," Burnham said, uncurling out the rope from her boot then slipped it into her tossed aside Starfleet pants.

* * *

L'Rell collapsed onto her feet with a thud.

Voq stood up from the chair then slowly approached the former first officer.

His footsteps were heavy. As though a heavy beast were in his place such as a animal that Tyler had introduced L'Rell towards being a elephant. The air became tense and dark reducing the red lighting in the room to dark. L'Rell recognized the familiar Klingon bridge. The interior being a shade of red with panels that had buttons all over the place. Comforting, homely feeling to it that could be fixed at any time without having to return home for repairs every two weeks or so. She turned her eyes toward the albino staring down toward her. He placed his d'k tahg into the sheath. He wore more un-Klingon like armor and lacked a baldric. His armor was dark gray. And she was struck with utter despair.

"Allied yourself with the humans so quickly?" Voq asked, with a tsk.

"It was the honorable choice," L'Rell said.

"So what I had been told as true," Voq said. "You work with the Federation."

"They have more honorable intentions than you," L'Rell said.

"And that is?" Voq asked,

"To take you in and make sure you never see the light of day,"

"That is not Klingon," Voq said.

"It's perfect for someone like you," L'Rell said.

"Nor are you," Voq said.

"T'Kuvma began this war to unite the outcasts," L'Rell said. "He succeeded."

"I succeeded where he failed," Voq said.

"Every time you speak defaces the legacy of T'Kuvma!" L'Rell shouted him down. "I am not done speaking," she shook her head in disgust. "You have been riding on the success of the house leader for too long. You have betrayed him. You have forgotten T'Kuvma's purpose of creating this house. You have sent T'Kuvma to Gre'thor-" with one swift kick L'Rell was sent to her side. The Klingon warriors stepped aside. She gripped onto the holes in the floor then finished what she had started. "for everything you have done."

"T'Kuvma is in Sto-vo-kor," Voq insisted.

L'Rell pushed herself up.

"You know as I do that he is not!" L'Rell shouted.

"You dare question me?" Voq said, approaching her.

"You are no messiah," L'Rell retorted.

"I am the torchbearer!" Voq raised his voice with his arms spread out.

L'Rell kept herself up on her side.

"You are not Klingon enough to lead this cause," L'Rell said. "once, you were but now you are not."

 **SMACK!**

"Take that back," Voq hissed, stepping back.

L'Rell rubbed the side of her face then slowly turned her head toward Voq.

"You use T'Kuvma's reasoning to continue this war," L'Rell said. "Outcasts have formed their houses and ready to be recognized as honorable in the beginning of this war by the other Klingon houses," she shook her head. "That honor is gone now."

She looked up to see the twisted, dark version of a fellow warrior. Once promising and honorable enough to follow T'Kuvma's teachings. She was surrounded by unfamiliar faces. The House of T'Kuvma was dead. Voq was going on about how honorable the house had become in his stead. His detailed slaughter of Starfleet personnel made her stomach twist and her insides hurt. Voq had his back to L'Rell facing the view screen radiating in pride. It was as though everything was background noise. She knew who was speaking, their species, their affiliation to the Klingon Empire, and their best interests. She looked up only seeing a orange onesie being worn by the captain in her minds eye. She lowered her head.

"Anything left to say?" Voq asked.

"I was afraid of you, terrified, not willing to take over when T'Kuvma had appointed me at first," L'Rell said. "You were a ideal leader to enforce Klingon values. Now, I see that I was wrong," she looked up toward him with murderous eyes. "You are a terrorist."

Voq was handed a Romulan disruptor by his first officer.

"Not familiar with that word," Voq said.

"You should be," L'Rell said.

"Then you'll become a martyr to Starfleet as your ' _crewmate_ s'," Voq said. "Sad to think you will watch them die first." Voq aimed at L'Rell's chest then pressed the trigger. "Then join T'Kuvma in Gre'thor," Voq lowered the disruptor. "Send her to their cell. Carefully. Then kill the humans."

* * *

Burnham and Bryce were meditating when the rogue Klingons returned to the cell. L'Rell was cupping her large circular injury with her head hung low. The generated field vanished leaving a open space. The two Klingons placed L'Rell against the wall. Burnham opened one eye as they did then took out her rope. She swung the rope toward them wrapping it around the shorter Klingon's legs. The taller Klingon turned beginning to take out a Klingon disruptor. Burnham ducked then smacked both fists against the unarmored Klingon's torso knocking him against the wall. Bryce pinned down the first Klingon searching around for the Klingon disruptor.

"You will die," came the ominous like prediction.

"Then I die with my principles," Burnham said, then applied the Vulcan Nerve Pinch.

Bryce shot the second Klingon making vanish in green light.

"Co. . . Commander," L'Rell said, as L'Rell came to her side.

"L'Rell," Burnham said. "Status report?"

"There are ten Klingons aboard this vessel," L'Rell said. "I have lost a heart," she closed her eyes in pain then reopened them. "I have another heart." Burnham nodded in understanding.

"Do you need anything for the injury?" Burnham inquired.

"Yes," L'Rell said. "something to stop the bleeding."

Burnham looked over toward her pants then back toward the consultant.

"We've got that," Burnham said. "Is Voq on the bridge?'

"Yes," L'Rell said.

"Lieutenant, hand me those pants," Burnham said, with one hand reached out.

Bryce handed the pants to Burnham.

"We will be moving after this out of the cell," Burnham said, then Bryce handed the sharpened stick that he had carved back on the planet.

"Leave me here," L'Rell said. "But give me the disruptor," Bryce and L'Rell had a long look. "To kill the other Klingon."

L'Rell briefly closed her eyes in pain as Burnham cut off the pant legs to the pants. She rolled the pant legs up then placed the rounded balls into the injury. Burnham applied the same treatment to the back of L'Rell with Bryce monitoring the blood flow so she knew what she was doing. Bryce gently laid the consultant back against the wall. Her eyes wincing in pain while holding onto Bryce's free hand.

"Whe we are done up there, the Discovery will beam you to sick bay," Burnham said.

"This is not the end as I thought it would be," L'Rell said.

"The beginning of the end," Burnham said, earning a nod back.

"We better go before they get alarmed of the absence," Bryce said, as L'Rell let go of his hand.

 _Tilly, inform Captain Landry that we are on our way to acquiring the subject,_ Burnham explained through the bond. _We are taking over Voq's vessel._ Burnham handed L'Rell the disruptor.

"Let's go get our prisoner," Burnham said, and off they went leaving L'Rell behind.


	42. In the middle of executing a plan

There were ten rogue Klingons aboard the Bird Of Prey.

That meant they had to get rid of nine Klingons.

Burnham didn't like killing Klingons, but as she looked back at Bryce, it was the only option.

The only option to make sure they came out of this alive. If they had security officers assigned on to the mission then perhaps they could have taken the ship without a loss of life. Two short Klingons were heading down the corridor laughing with one hand on the slightly taller Klingon's shoulder. Bryce took out a wooden dagger then threw it in the direction of the short Klingon. Another blade landed but it was above the initial injury. The slightly taller one turned in the direction of the source. Burnham held up the Romulan Disruptor then fired twice at the Klingon. The Klingon's body fell to the floor with a thud. Two Klingons came down the hall immediately. Burnham pressed the trigger four times making the hallway littered in bodies.

"Now is the time to get a new disruptor, Lieutenant," Burnham said.

"Not a bad away mission, Commander," Bryce said, coming over to the fallen bodies.

Burnham held the disruptor looking both ways for oncoming traffic.

"Coast is clear," Burnham said, pressed against the side of the staircase. "We have six unimportant Klingons up there and one leader to subdue."

"How can you tell?" Bryce asked.

"They are laughing," Burnham said. "It is very distinctive laughter."

"You must have better hearing than I do," Bryce said.

"In fact, I do," Burnham said. "If you are curious."

"Alright," Bryce said, coming to her side. "Don't we need a navigator and pilot to control this ship? Who understands Klingon consoles?"

Burnham looked over toward Bryce.

"We are not taking this ship to Federation space," Burnham said. "If it goes to plan, it would not be necessary."


	43. Step forward and claim your victory

The war was tipping in Voq's favor.

His once trusted first officer was in the brig watching her colleagues be murdered.

Starfleet was going to be destroyed by the end of the year and history will never recall it. Just exactly what the Federation had been doing to other cultures like it for the past two centuries. Absorbing them in and throwing out the best parts of their civilization like it were a thing that humans called 'barbies'. Bearing them down to the essentials of their culture which made them naked and defenseless, all the while lacking territory. That was all going to change under the newly made united houses. Voq did not understand why the other houses had not banned together in the war. They stayed out of the war and disassociated themselves with anyone calling themselves Klingon who participated in the war against the Federation.

Voq had been tossed aside and devalued due to his genetic imperfection.

He was white as marble with a unique somewhat smooth forehead crest.

He did what they had done to him throughout his life, tossing aside the notable Klingon.

The bridge was full of laughter. Laughter that Voq enjoyed. It was one of the glowing things about the war that enlightened him. It was laughter around his success, instigated by those comfortable around him, and those who understood the ancient Klingon joke. Things were going his way rather than the opposite. He knew the feeling of dismay too well. Fortunately, the Federation was getting adjusted to the dismay, misery, and sorrow. Something that should stay that way. It felt just like it was meant to be this way. Suddenly there were disruptor blasts echoed in the room. One by one, his crew vanished in a green clouds that shortly vanished before his eyes. He turned to his right toward the source of the blasts to see there the two Starfleet officers aiming Klingon disruptors at him.

"Captain Voq, you are under arrested for initiating a war with The Federation," Burnham said.

"I propose a battle to the death," Voq said, as Bryce made his way over toward the communications station.

"You once said in a live stream that you were not Klingon," Burnham said.

"Which makes you part of a terrorist organization using the Klingon way as a excuse," Bryce said.

"It also makes your request ill-advised," Burnham said. "I would obey your request were you a Klingon."

"I am Klingon," Voq growled back.

"Do honorable Klingons drag a war out after making their point?" Burnham asked.

"Yes." Voq said.

Burnham had a long cold stare.

"No," Burnham said. "This war has continued for too long. No one knows what they are fighting for."

"Yes, they do," Voq said.

"Tell me what your followers are fighting for," Burnham said.

Voq nodded, wearing a certain expression on his face.

"Making the Klingon Empire great again," Voq said.

Burnham turned her head away in disgust closing her eyes then reopened them slowly shaking her head.

"My god," Bryce said, in horror.

Voq looked over toward the man.

"What?" Voq said

"Leaders like you leads to extinction," Burnham said, earning Voq's attention then elaborated. "the stepping stones down to it, the system that worked before fails its people, and then this system leads to death. Used wrong, it can," she looked apologetically toward Voq. "Federation would step aside and let the Klingon war run its course if it were against someone else. We can't step aside. We have to take action."

Voq lowered his hand down to the Romulan disruptor in the sheath.

"Do Klingons really fight wars purposely?" Voq said.

"To gather territory and often times revenge," Burnham said. "You have enough territory. All the territory that the Klingons will ever need. A Klingon would have ended the war after inflicting the causalities as you have."

"Klingons slay their enemies in the battlefield," Voq said.

"Then you are just going down to kill children," Burnham said. "All we have are orphans."

"No, you do not," Voq said.

"According to the last report, all we have is orphans from your attacks," Bryce said. His eyes glared at the rogue Klingon. "we're running out of people to serve in Starfleet in your war. Quickly."

"If you continue this war, all you will do is create a resistance," Burnham said. "This resistance will be made by the orphans. Orphans who will topple your Empire down and put the United Federation of Planets back together. A painstaking process should they want it back. I think they would."

"The only way to topple a empire is by death," Voq said.

"Empires can be toppled different ways," Burnham said. "If I were among those children . . . I would want peace instead of death. I should know. I used to be one."

"Really?" Voq asked, skeptically.

"It should be ironic that a orphan is taking you in," Burnham said. "I heard you were one at some point."

"Catch this, orphan!" Voq said, raising the Romulan disruptor toward Burnham.

Voq became outlined in orange than vanished in various shades of it before Burnham's eyes. Bryce looked up with a smile toward Burnham. The Romulan disruptor and d'k tahg was laid on the floor where the rogue Klingon had once stood. Burnham relaxed lowering her disruptor toward the floor. Bryce pressed a few buttons on the panel with a spare communications device in his ear. His fingers pressed familiar small, square buttons on the old fashioned console. The camera came toward the view screen then came above the Klingon vessel displaying the Discovery. It dived down back inside the bird of prey to the bridge where the two Starfleet officers were.

"Captain wants to speak with you," Bryce said.

Burnham came to the center.

"On screen, lieutenant," Burnham said, linking her hands behind her back.

Landry appeared on the square screen.

"That was a fast take over," Landry said. "Captain Voq is in the brig."

"Prepare to have L'Rell beamed over to sick bay," Burnham said. Landy nodded, "I believe she will need medical attention."

"No wonder you were a tactical officer as a lieutenant on the Shenzhou," Landry said. "Remind me to not underestimate you."

"Will do," Burnham said, nodding. "Captain."

"We will be beaming up in fifteen minutes, however long it takes, for you to make that Klingon message," Landry said. "You are going to get a medal of honor, Number One. The Federation is in your debt. Discovery out."

Landry's face vanished off the screen leaving the beautiful sight of space.

The camera rotated then turned in the direction of Burnham.

Burnham's eyes sparkled with joy as a big grin grew on her face.


	44. How to sucessfully surprise RK

Thousands of light years from where the capture of Voq there was a attack being launched on a starbase in the front lines.

The planet bound starbase was burning in flames in the night.

The camera flew down toward the surface to reveal several parked Klingon Birds Of Prey lying around. The camera moved over through the fleeing Federation civilians in crowds. Klingons were firing their Romulan disruptors sending the civilians falling. Smaller and shorter humans were making their escape easier in plain sight. The camera shook as it went between the survivors then went into the nearby still building. This was Starbase 42. Doctors in medical blues were guiding the children to a shelter. And one of them was held back at the entrance. There were limping civilians being directed to different parts of the building by a southern, baby blue eyed man.

"McCoy, get out of there!" Nurse Joy called.

McCoy looked over seeing the crowd was getting smaller before his eyes.

"Coming!" McCoy called back.

They were dropping before his eyes one by one.

A short toddler was standing alongside him crying while holding onto a teddy bear with six inch teddy fang additions. McCoy fled in the other direction running from the entrance way. The child had slightly pointed ears and a blonde bowl like hair cut. Tears were streaming down the child's green cheeks. McCoy came into a patient room then closed the door behind him.

"Sshh, shhh," McCoy said, as the child softly wept. "Sssh." he gently patted on the child's back." the child let go of the toy. "I am going to put ya down into the closet."

The weeping had stopped. He set the child down to the floor where there was a thud. The child had collapsed. McCoy knelt then checked for a pulse. He then applied CPR. McCoy stopped looking down in horror. He slowly closed the child's eyes lowering his head toward the floor. The child had cried to death. Powerful feelings had lead to the child's death. There was nothing that he could have done in this case. McCoy was strongly hurt by the loss. McCoy lowered his head down and placed the teddy bear into the child's arm.

A loud bang came from the door.

McCoy turned toward the door as the bang came twice.

McCoy slid under the bed moments before the door was torn open.

Several Klingons walked into the room then strolled about.

McCoy counted there being four Klingons on both sides. There could be two in front of the bed. McCoy felt death was imminent. Terror was coursing through him as his forehead was placed against the floor. He was going to die. He looked over toward his mother's ring on his left hand with the green gem facing up. McCoy balanced his breathing thinking of Joanna. Holding the baby girl in his arms alongside Jocelyn and let her hold his finger. Suddenly, the bed was flipped over. McCoy was picked up then slammed against the wall by his blue medical uniform.

They didn't look Klingon with that blue skin.

They were intimidating while armor that highlighted their difference.

"Any last words?" the blue Klingon asked.

"Yeah," McCoy said. "I do," he looked down then moved the Klingon's d'k tahg to the place where his heart located. "You're a lousy Klingon. If you wanted to kill me instantly then you would have aimed in the right place."

There were sounds of phaser shots in the room and then there was the sound of bodies falling.

"How dare-" A phaser shot vaporized the blue Klingon's companion.

McCoy looked over to see Klingons stormed into the room earning a smile.

"About time you joined us, brothers," the blue Klingon said, with a pleased smile.

"We're not joining," Koloth said. "we're cleaning up Voq's mess."

McCoy was shoved aside getting a scar on his left cheek.

Klingons with baldrics entered the room dealt with the remaining rogue Klingons. McCoy was trembling like a leaf. Koloth looked over toward the silent human then grew a sinister smile. Koloth picked up McCoy then guided him into the closet. Koloth gave a small wave then shut the door on him. McCoy heard the screams of the rogue Klingons being slaughtered. McCoy was puzzled, trying to process the sudden interruption. Then it sounded like the Klingons fled the room leaving him behind. McCoy opened the door a crack hearing the shouts of "WE ARE KLINGON!" echoing down the hall.

McCoy picked up the Vulcan corpse then placed it onto the white bed.


	45. Ridiculously short chapter

"It's weird being at this place again," Paul remarked.

"How is that?" Burnham asked.

"I visited here in a dream," Paul said. "you gave a speech about fear." he looked over toward the woman. "A good one."

"Medal of honor," Burnham said. "Who would have thought," the smallest of a smile grew on her face then it vanished. "I did not believe I would get another medal in my collection."

Paul looked over in curiosity toward the first officer.

"Just how many medals did you get with your time on the Shenzhou?" Paul asked.

"It is too flattering to tell," Burnham said. "Medals are not everything, Commander Stamets."

"Yeah, they are," Paul said.

"I declined promotion," Burnham said.

"What?" Paul asked. "Why?"

"Earning a promotion to captaincy during a ending war is not wise for someone like me," Burnham said. "It doesn't feel like it has been properly earned."

"No one says no to Starfleet command when it come to captaincy," Paul said, noticing the beaming look in her eyes.

"I did," Burnham said. "Admiral Georgiou made sure my request was respected."

Burnham was radiating in hope and optimism.

Where had that gone in his universe?


	46. Earth: post speech

Burnham was holding the medal of honor while sitting on the bench while outside the United Federation of Planets governmental building. She had a reassured feeling about the future. Renewed and hopeful. It was going to be alright for the time being. She looked over once sensing the presence of Tilly coming toward her. From behind her, Saru and Culber were engaged in a discussion. It was alright, she considered while noticing Landry come out with Lorca and Tyler by her side perfectly intact. Tilly sat down alongside Burnham.

"How does it feel to be the girl who ended the war?" Tilly asked

"The war is not over yet," Burnham said.

"But still," Tilly said.

"I believe, Tilly, that we won't share the same assignments after it concludes," Burnham said.

"No, no, no," Tilly said. "That is not how it works. That is not how life works."

"Then how does it work?" Burnham asked.

"It works like this," Tilly said, placing her hand onto Burnham's hand. "I know I am not going to be there always there for your career but my first assignment post war must be with you," she twirled her finger. "I even asked your other wife."

"We are not married," Burmham said. "Not yet, legally."

"Anyway, she like the sounds of it," Tilly said. "Thinks it could work."

Burnham looked over toward Tilly.

"We will make it work," Burnham agreed, with a private smile toward Tilly.

* * *

Life works in different ways.

It is mysterious and irritating.

Vulcans see that life is logical.

Tellarites like to argue about life.

Klingons enjoy life to the fullest.

And humans are quite the exception.

No one knows why they are but they just are. They have varying viewpoints on it ranging from 'Thanks, I hate it' to 'I love it' because of the utopia environment or conflicts in interest. There were ranging responses to the war coming to a close. Phaser companies were heavily relieved that the spike in ordering had gone down a notch. Starship builders were the most relieved regarding construction. Starship captains were overjoyed that on the last battle, they could put their ship in and remove the battle mode upgrades. It was Georgiou who was the most happiest. It meant that everyone can have shore leave in the next few months in 2257. The war was ending. The rogue Klingons were struggling to find a new leader among them in the aftermath of Voq's capture. Struggling to find the honor in continuing it for that matter. Kol was busy leading the attacks against these so-called Klingons with great joy. Koloth was chasing them down one by one under his captain. Cornwell was having a night out with the other admirals down on Earth dragging along L'Rell for the ride.

"Admiral Anderson," Georgiou said, greeting the man on the in-progress starbase.

"Admiral Georgiou," Anderson said.

"Doesn't it feel good?" Georgiou said.

"I don't want to jinx that," Anderson said.

"Hard to do that," Geogiou said.

"When you are feeling so good?" Anderson asked, with a smile.

"Yes, very much," Georgiou said. "yes."

"It kind of sucks that we not going to have the best officer in the fleet captaining the Discovery," Anderson said.

"Patience, patience, Andy," Georgiou said. "She will come around."

"Eventually," Anderson said. "The wait is killing me. Just to see how she will do in the chair."

"I think you know how that will turn out," Georgiou said.

"Nothing can be what you want to be, they can only be what they are," Anderson said. "Your first officer once said in a report." he looked toward the woman. Georgiou nodded, fondly. "Terral is going to be overjoyed that we have another Vulcan climbing the ranks."

"You'll have to wait a decade for her to reach fleet captain or perhaps two," Georgiou said. "Vulcans take their time."

"They sure as hell do," Anderson said. "I look forward to welcoming her." he smiled toward Georgiou. "You did a good job training her."

"I like to think it was a group effort," Georgiou said, as her eyes rested on the USS Hope - a hospital ship - coming in for repairs.


	47. A moment of party

"Philippa,"

Georgiou turned in the direction of the woman's voice.

"Michael," Georgiou returned with a smile. "It is good to see you again."

Burnham came over to the admiral's side.

"How has being a Admiral treated you in the recent month?" Burnham asked, leaning against the bar.

"I'll cover her tab," Georgiou told the bartender then turned her attention onto the woman. "It has been better."

A smile grew on Burnham's face.

"Tilly was wondering if you could spend the night over at our place," Burnham said, as Georgiou looked over to see the red head standing alongside the door looking as though she could squirm her way out of the bar with her sheer will. L'Rell smacked a glass on the table with a loud laugh tossing her head back. "She would like to get to know you."

"One drink," the bartender said, placing it onto the table.

Burnham took the glass then sipped from it.

"Hm," Burnham said, raising her eyebrows. "Tea."

"You are not quite forgotten at a Federation Bar," Georgiou said. "you are a very impressionable."

"Quite aware of that," Burnham lowered the glass down, then eyed the woman. "I did not expect you to be back so soon from Starbase 1."

"We were checking on the chatter," Georgiou said. "None of them were pressing. "

"That is odd," Burnham said.

"All we've heard is rogue Klingons pleading for help as they are being slaughtered by the house of Kor," Burnham nodded in understanding. "There is some underlining force. The rogue Klingons are retreating from their newfound territory and into Klingon space. We could get some Federation space back but we are inclined to give the Klingons most of it. For safe keeping." Burnham raised a eyebrow

"How many M class planets are in that 'safe keeping'?" Burnham asked.

"The planets you can't survive on without gear," Georgiou said. "Not many warp drive planets are part of it."

Burnham sipped from the tea.

"Hm, that could make it worthwhile," Burnham said.

"Klingons will love it for prison planets," Georgiou said, holding a glass up.

Burnham and Georgiou shared a toast. The scene moved from the long side of the bar to the other side. Culber was having a drink with a smile as a big toast was being shared. Paul came through the crowd with his sleeves rolled up and he seemed to be slightly disheveled. His blue jacket was unzipped partially and it seemingly lacked the Starfleet deltas, circular shoulder padds, and the Starfleet insignia making it seem to be a blue jacket. He strolled his way over toward the direction of the table. Culber's familiar figure lowering the glass onto the table.

"You have to get that out of your arm today," Paul said, as he came to the man's side.

"Why?" Culber asked.

"Don't be that way," Paul said. "You know why."

"Oooh," Culber said. " _That_."

"Uh huh," Paul said.

"I hardly get used at all," Culber said. "Besides, I can only be used for emergencies."

"Emergencies, emergencies, emergencies," Paul said. "Big jumps, big jumps-they're all the same." he shook his hand. "You can be used interchangeably with Ephraim to pilot the Discovery," Paul downed a drink in one sip then placed it on to the table. "and one jump to start the process of getting you out is all that can kill the mushrooms. Leaving the Discovery unable to get out of the Klingon territory fast enough or another universe." Now that part, Paul never mentioned.

Culber grew alarmed looking at the man.

"And you don't have a back up?" Culber said.

"I do, I do," Paul said. "Well . . ." he looked over toward Culber. "your Paul did." Paul's voice became soft. "Apparently, we're got a knack for keeping some in captivity," he laughed. "But, the point is I rather have you not feeling guilty about being forced out of there. You are not replaceable, Hugh. Not to me."

"Your other self replaced himself," Culber said.

"Has it not occurred to you there's a reason behind it?" Paul asked.

"Not really, when you decided to give yourself a second chance at life," Culber said. "That's the reason."

"If you hardly get used, why not take it out," Paul said. "And lie your ass off about side effects."

"That would be being dishonest," Culber said.

"You are capable of it," Paul said, raising his eyebrows. "Besides, you can always go into the private sector for medical study." Culber considered the proposal.

"PAUL, WE GOT A MUSHROOM DRINKING TRIVIA CONTEST!" came a science officer.

Paul left Culber, abruptly.

"I'll think about it," Culber said, rubbing his chin.


	48. Change sings, the birds fly, the seasons

Landry was relieved when the report from Culber came onto her comn channel.

She didn't need the weight of using Culber too often on her shoulders.

And frankly, being told that she didn't have to do that anymore was a weight lifted off her shoulders.

It was more of a calming influence on her than anything. She flopped back into bed with her hair sprawled out around her. A optimistic smile was on her face. Her cheeks were rosy and there was a spark in her eye. After a month of being in the war fueled off hope that it would end within the year, the universe was repaying that. She looked toward the calm blue ceiling to her quarters. She placed her hands on the back of her head. It was going the way she had always wanted. The good feeling was filling the room. The three people who she had left the bar with last night were slowly waking up on the other side of the bed.

* * *

"Greetings, Burnham," Ephraim said.

Burnham turned toward Ephraim.

"Greetings, Commander," Burnham said.

Ephraim looked over the railing toward the mushrooms.

"Beautiful," Ephraim said. "Isn't it?"

"It is," Burnham said, giving Ephraim the side eye. "How have you been keeping yourself together?"

"Hope," Ephraim said, turning toward the first officer. "Hope is what kept me together."

"I thought you wouldn't want to return to Starfleet after the losses," Burnham said.

"Life finds a way," Ephraim said. "As one of your scientists once said. . ."

"Life cannot be controlled, life breaks free," Burnham finished.

"Life is strange," Ephraim continued.

 _The camera panned over to Hugh sleeping in Paul's arms with his forearms covered in white gauze._

"Life is beautiful," _A starship flew away from a large Klingon explosion soaring into space._

"Life finds a way. . ." Ephraim paused, looking down toward the mushrooms in awe. "a way to flourish in the darkest of times and grow into something better, a sign of better times, and a sign of renewal. But also a sign of change," Ephraim's claws were resting on the rails. Science officers walked underneath the catwalk. "Life grows in the hardest conditions and thrives when we least expect it. We hardly can expect what the next lifeform might be."

 _A single flower began to sprout on grounds that were once conquered by Klingons. The camera panned away from the flower away from the smoke drifting over the large pieces of metal to reflect over red shirts. The bodies of red shirts decorating the landscape were grizzly. Some officers in blue and gold were helping each other to a recovery site where a roll call was being were several rescue vessels among the greenery with Starfleet command bronzed onto the side._

"For a moment there. . ." Ephraim's voice began to change with regret. "I thought that Starfleet was going to lose. We all did. It wasn't seen coming-" but was cut off by Burnham.

"Life is illogical," Burnham added.

"It's a shame this will all be classified," Ephraim said.

"We have all what we need to explore," Burnham said. "We don't need to jump universes just to do that."

"To explore strange new worlds and civilizations," Ephraim said. "So we boldly go . . . where we have never gone before."

"That is our destiny," Burnham said. "A destiny written in the stars."

"I won't be there to see that continue," Ephraim said.

"I heard about that," Burnham said. She looked over, raising her right eyebrow toward Ephraim. "Jumping a entire planet?"

"No," Ephraim said. "A entire civilization," both her eyebrows raised up in surprise. "We're all capable of it."

"Your species are fascinating," Burnham said. "The most baffling, thought provoking . . ." she shook her head. "I will not forget your aid so easily." her eyes glanced over toward the chubby, wrinkled alien.

"I as well," Ephraim said, with a honored nod toward her. "I as well, Commander Burnham."


	49. To be or not to be

"Being hailed."

Burnham looked up her science station.

"Commander Burnham, you are hereby acting captain, we have a starbase under attack," Anderson appeared on the view screen. "I am sorry, the Glenn is out there already helping the Klingons clean up the mess."

"There is no need to apologize," Burnham said, coming from her station to the captain's chair. She slowly slid down into the cool, yet warm chair with a comfortable seating. "Prepare to jump, Airiam."

"Good luck," Anderson said. "Rogue Klingons claim they got a new leader. Says it's one of us."

Anderson vanished off the screen as Burnham's fingers clenched onto the arm rest.

"Black alert," came the announcement through the ship.

The room became cloaked in black then soared into a blue hole where it vanished. A blue light engulfed the room reflecting off the officers. Burnham noticed that the jump was different. Something was being done different. She looked over toward Airiam who shrugged in return and she turned her attention off keeping her facade up. Burnham felt the lives of all one hundred thirty-four officers on her shoulder. She can feel Tilly's confusion in the matter that was occurring with absolute panic rushing through. Burnham allowed herself to send out comforting thoughts to Tilly. There were strange sounds that were coming from the blue portal like they were skating on metal.

The Discovery flew out of the portal coming out to the attacked Starbase.

"Hail the Rogue Klingons," Burnham said.

"Aye, Captain," Richter said. Burnham stood up with a flair as her hands clenched into fists. "Hailed."

"This is acting captain Michael Burnham of the USS Discovery," Burnham said. "If you do not cease attacking the starbase then I will have no choice but to order a attack and a complete assault by our highly advanced phasers. You will burn to death without honor, without any form of back up, or any of Starfleet's sympathy. All in all, you will regret attacking as this attack will destroy any supporters you have left," Burnham watched the attacks on the Starbase recede from all the Rogue Klingon vessels. "Burnham out."

Richter ended the communication as there were looks of awe on the well composed woman.

* * *

"It seems they have found their new leader," Terral said.

"And we might have to deal with this threat differently," Georgiou said.

"Perhaps not," Terral said. "They did stop attacking after the reply."

"They have returned to the idea that honor is what should be regarded the most," Burnham said.

"Not that they know you're right about having not many supporters," Terral said.

"I don't know about this," Anderson said. "It seems fishy."

"It is fishy," Georgiou nodded, then looked over toward the holographic representation of Burnham. "You were lucky getting Voq and you might not be lucky with this new one."

"I can try," Burnham said.

"You're stuck in a Mexican stand off," Terral said. "Any attempts might result in fatalities."

"Total destruction of all three ships," Anderson said, rubbing his forehead. "Landry would have handled this better."

"No one can handle a situation like this," Georgiou said. "Landry is dealing with a very bad flu and she wouldn't have gotten this stand off."

The two Admirals nodded in agreement.

"Admiral Archer?" Burnham asked.

"We don't need him in the fray," Georgiou said. "What ever you do, Commander. . . Be sure you are certain that it is the right choice." Burnham regarded the Admiral. "And you might have a officer of mine aboard your vessel."

Burnham tilted her head that slowly straightened up.

"Commander Saru," Burnham said, as the camera panned to display the scene had changed to a lab. The scenery was brighter and whiter behind Burnham making it seem that she was like a goddess dressed in gold. She had a apologetic look on her face. "My deepest apologies."

"There is nothing to apologize for," Saru said.

"There is," Burnham said. "I thought you had left the ship."

"L'Rell is a interesting individual if you haven't noticed," Saru said. "She has been helpful in translating some Klingon messages directed to me."

"I hope it wasn't bad," Burnham said.

"It was not that bad," Saru said. "Not worse than being called a hayless scarecrow."

"Saru," Burnham said, as the Kelpian clicked. "You can't be telling me that you've gotten hate mail from the Klingons."

"Yes," Saru said. "I have."

Burnham shook her head, her eyes still fixed on her Shenzhou colleague.

"You are the most unlikely person to get that," Burnham said

"Despite what you think, it makes me laugh," Saru said.

"We all need a good laugh after what we have seen," Burnham said.

"I did not expect being taken back into the front lines two weeks after Voq's capture," Saru said. "It has been happier."

"Indeed," Burnham agreed. "We will be returning back to Starbase one, shortly, after we deal with this skirmish."

"Skirmish?" Saru asked, staring back. "Michael, what is going on?"

"We are dealing with someone who has taken over for Voq," then reached out grabbing him by the shoulder. "I won't let them walk away."

"I didn't sense death," Saru said. "I didn't sense death for the crew."

"Death is like that Saru," Burnham said, then let go of his shoulder. "I will do everything in my power to make sure it doesn't happen."

"This is like a year ago," Saru said. "A event that could mean the beginning or the end of a war, a skirmish, deliberate attack . . . You in the seat of the captains chair and I ready to become first officer."

"Times have changed," Burnham said, looking up toward him. "And our ship is not going to be destroyed."

"Certainly," Saru agreed.

"You can stay in the lab if you like," Burnham offered.

"Actually," Saru said. "I would like to be there. I wasn't there last time when I should have been."

"I do need a first officer experienced with Klingon combat for this mission," Burnham said.

"You are not considering asking them over." Saru asked. "If so, there is a better course of action to nab the new leader."

"That is exactly what I am considering, Number One," Burnham said. "This time, it won't be out of desperation."

* * *

Paul had a bad feeling resting in his gut. He felt like a traveler in a moment of history before the truth was told. He felt it was time that Burnham knew his secret. Paul observed the discussing officers. Burnham's hands linked behind her back rather than unlinked and by her side much like Saru's waving arms while in blue uniforms that were silver and golden. In a single second, the familiar additions were gone. Almost like a glitch for that matter. The corridors of the Discovery were familiar and different at the same time. He had grown to appreciate that. And he still appreciated it with his being. He came to a stop in front of the two.

"Captain, Commander" Paul said. "I think you might meet someone from a different universe."

Saru tilted his head at first then looked over toward Burnham.

"And this must be your astromycologist," Saru said.

"One of the best," Burnham said. "A little eccentric."

"I am not actually from this universe," Paul said, earning their attention. "Lieutenant Stamets died getting the Discovery out of a little pot hole. He switched places with me," he waved his hand in mid-air, slightly. "and I am sensing that you shouldn't trust that person as they're from a bad parallel universe."

"How do you know?" Burnham asked.

"I was the navigator. I am part tardigrade," Paul said. "I can see things from the future at some moments and then some. . . I just sense it."

"What else do you sense?" Burnham asked.

"It's not going to end well for someone," Paul said.

"Understood," Burnham said. "You must keep this information to yourself. Is that clear?"

"Crystal clear," Paul relaxed. He looked off toward Saru. "Wherever I go, you are still a first officer." Paul shook his head bemused then walked off leaving Saru confused.

Saru pointed in the direction of the officer with his thumb walking past them.

"Is this normal?" Saru asked, concerned.

"On our ship," Burnham said. "It is."

Burnham walked on ahead of Saru.

"Most interesting," Saru said, catching up with Burnham.

"You wouldn't know the half of it," Burnham said. "I left out lots of things in our conversations."

"Such as?" Saru asked.

"That would be telling," Burnham said. "You have to see it for yourself."

"So it's the kind that I won't believe," Saru said, as they walked into the transporter room flanked by two security officers. "Perfect."

In a orange sea of light appeared a figure that solidified within seconds and the light retreated from the darkness coming over. There was complete silence in the room. Not a move was being made. The camera turned around from the figure toward the emotionless Burnham and the surprised Saru. The camera turned back to reveal a blue eyed, weathered Gabriel with a healed scar from the side of his face. What struck Burnham was darkness standing out outlining him. His eyes didn't glow back at her. It was as though she were staring back at shadow demon using the skin of Lorca to wage a war and communicate with humans. Her composure did not fail her. Saru observed what seemed to be a circular glowing glass contrasting against the dark armor that he had came in. A smile grew on the man's face.

"Hello there, Michael," Gabriel stepped off the transporter padd while his eyes squinted. "It seems the hands of destiny brought us back together again."

Burnham stepped back and the two security officers stood in the way with their phasers aimed at his chest.

Burnham glanced over toward Saru then gave him the nod.

"I see you were pardoned and rightfully so. I got your message that you were ready to join my cause." were the chilling words that made Saru come alongside the security officers. "Number One," the imposter smiled back widely at Saru. "Your mutiny got you not so far."

"I am not your first officer and she is not your friend," Saru said, as his threat ganglia came out. "However. . . as meek and subdued my counterpart may have been where you're from, you will find quite the _opposite_ should you attempt to pose us harm."

"You wouldn't strike a superior officer," Gabriel said.

Saru looked toward the security officers with a side glance then back.

"You're not," Saru said, his eyes turned into a glare.

Gabriel hit the stair step of the transporter padd then clenched onto his injury.

"Number one, that is enough," Burnham said, as the two officers came to Gabriel's side then disarmed him. Gabriel's eyes sunk at the towering Kelpian. "We need him alive for the next leg of the mission."


	50. Go and go with honor

Gabriel was shoved onto the bridge by Saru's hand. Burnham tagged along behind the two men with her eyes drilled on Gabriel. Through her facade, Tilly noticed the look of fury while sitting on the console across from Richter. Gabriel looked around the bridge seeing only the faintest of colors between the blinding light. Saru guided Gabriel to the center of the bridge. Burnham was like a bottle ready to go off as she swayed her shoulders from side to side finding a strategic position. Gabriel was forced down to his knees.

"Fleet wide hail," Burnham snapped.

In a series of clicks, the Rogue Klingon appeared.

"Here is your leader," Burnham said.

Gabriel looked up feeling the hard, sharp fingers of Saru digging in.

"If you don't surrender to the Federation now, history will judge you as cowards. This war is capable of destroying a entire generation until no one is left," Burnham said. "We will capture each and every one of your leaders every time they are replaced. I am willing to play this game but I believe you're not."

Gabriel shook his head.

"We're not," came the reply, as Gabriel's look of horror grew.

"We are willing to escort you to a safe haven," Burnham said.

"That is unnecessary, Captain Burnham," the politely mannered Klingon replied. "we go with our honor."

"Klingon warp signatures have appeared," Owosekun said.

"That's my back up," Gabriel said.

"I expect you make this surrender official," Burnham said. "Discovery out."

The screen turned to black.

"Captain, the Klingons are offering their service," Richter said.

"Tell them to stand down until the order of surrendering is fleet wide," Burnham said, as her eyes looked down toward the imposter. "We will be returning to Starbase 1 after I have a discussion with your navigator."

Gabriel looked up toward her in confusion.

"Captain," Richer said. "You want to see this."

"Put it up," Burnham said, turning away.

The Klingon's figure appeared in a blue light.

"-the Rogue Klingon force has lost its leader for the second time. Our numbers are dwindling, we have suffered heavy casualties. We have lost our way and need to become . . ." the Klingon lowered her head. "Great again." Her hands were clasped in front of her lap. "We have been dishonorable and un-Klingon continuing a war. As second in command, we surrender to the Federation and accept any punishment by our counterparts on Qo'Nos. We deserve the punishment being handed to us. We are. . . not Klingon."

The Klingon's head shamefully lowered and the hologram flickered away.

"It's over," Saru said, in a unsure tone placing a hand on the back end of the chair.

"It's over," Burnham said, watching the two Klingon vessels warp away. "we won."

A wave of relief crashed through the bridge, from officer to officer. Tilly came over to the side of Burnham then reached her hand out. Burnham grabbed Tilly's larger pink, warm hand giving it a good squeeze. Saru looked down toward the imposter. Gabriel was defeated sitting there on the center of the bridge, seeing stark differences everywhere that were in the thousands. He squinted looking up then down toward the dark floor. Owosekun and Detmer shared smiles. Rhys looked over toward his fellow officers and leaned back into the chair.

"Richter, hail the starbase and ask if they need any medical attention for their injured," Burnham said. "Inform them that our sick bay is standing by." Burnham turned toward Saru. "Commander Saru, you have the bridge. Lieutenant Styler and Ensign Bra'heze, escort him to the brig." She came over to the chair then pressed on a button. "Bridge to sick bay."

"Sick bay here," Soval voice came over.

"Prepare sickbay for incoming wounded," Burnham said, looking off toward the starbase that was burning. She looked down toward the screen on the arm rest. "we will be here for some time."

"Alright," Soval said. "I'll get the staff ready."

"Bridge out," Burnham said, then went after the turbo lift with Tilly by her side. She turned around and faced the fake Lorca. Burnham stared back at the squinting man. "You are not Gabriel Lorca."

"I am Gabriel Lorca," Gabriel said. "You know that."

Burnham opened her mind as Tilly looked over toward her.

 _We might still have a chance-_

"We have no chance," Burnham said, watching the look of horror become intense. "Not at all."

She leaned back then grabbed onto the leveler and the doors closed on her. Burnham placed her back against the wall. Tilly reached out grabbing Burnham into a hug. Burnham closed her eyes, clinging onto Tilly's uniform. All the anger and bitterness about seeing her second captain's skin misused fell off replaced by comfort. Tilly cupped her hands around Burnham's cheeks with a soft look back toward the acting captain.

"I never doubted you," Tilly said.

Then they pressed their foreheads together and a small, soft smile grew on Burnham's face.


	51. Epilogue

Gabriel was transferred into a familiar cell except everything was so bright that he could not see what was going on. He was in his dark armor that seemed to spell his soul out in blatant text. He slowly slid off the armor dumping it into a pile at the left hand side of the room leaving him with a glowing blue glass on his chest. He looked up hearing the sound of the doors open. He came toward the generated, blue field staring toward the blurry figure. Gabriel felt like a vampire in the unfamiliar light forcibly stranded by their enemies. The shadows were his friend and the light were his enemy. It was a curse to be so adept at seeing in the dark.

"Hello, Lorca," Paul said.

"Stamets," Gabriel said. "You understand that Starfleet needs to-"

"Starfleet doesn't actively seek and find their enemy!" Paul raised his voice. "nor do they side with the enemies and continue the war."

"Let me out," Gabriel said. "We are from the same universe."

"I . . ." Paul turned away pinching the bridge of his nose. "No," he turned toward Gabriel. "You used me to jump into your universe. Your universe!"

"Oh," Gabriel said, paling.

"You tossed me into a coma then you assigned Hugh off my case, _and_ you tried to manipulate everyone in your desperate attempt to turn us into soldiers," Paul said. "The Starfleet I came from used to be so optimistic. . . . Somewhere along the lines, we became too comfortable in the dark."

"Your universe was never bright as you think it was," Gabriel said.

"Alright," Paul said. "I am going to make sure everyone knows what you did."

"Which was what?" Gabriel asked. "A captain in war can't be expected to retain values."

"Take that back," Paul said.

"No," Gabriel said.

"Landry did," Paul said. "She kept Starfleet values running on this ship."

"Landry's dead," Gabriel said, unable to see the head shake.

"Actually, she is alive," Paul said. "She is sick right now. And she is a good captain."

"If they knew, they would have sent me back," Gabriel said.

"That would have been for the best," Paul said.

"You would be dead if it hadn't been for me," Gabriel said.

"Paul Stamets lived until he sacrificed himself so I have to think you're wrong," Paul said, as he stepped closer to the field becoming clear to Gabriel's eyes. "I will be there at your 'classified' trial."

"They can't prosecute me when I haven't done crimes," Gabriel said.

"Keep telling yourself that," Paul said, then walked away. "Keep telling yourself that."

The doors closed behind Paul.

* * *

Lorca sat in the chair looking at the small, square screen while stroking Merkin. The words that had came from his colleague, long time friend, and occasional lover was staring back at him through the screen. The initial shock made him blink sitting there listening to the purrs of Merkin. The attacks had suddenly stopped and the rogue Klingons had strangely dispersed in all directions being chased by their counterparts that had finally arrived as back up for the fleet.

"What do you mean that I have a bad version of myself in custody?" Lorca asked.

"I am afraid it is what it is, Gabe," Cornwell said. "Can't give you the details."

"And here I thought that would be your counterpart rather than mine," Lorca said.

"Raging a war against death itself," Cornwell said. "I find that more believable than a version of myself trying to start a empire."

"You start out as a hero and live to become the villain," Lorca said. "I thought that would happen down the road."

"Me too," Cornwell said. "You still want that retirement?"

"Yes," Lorca said. "We deserve it."

"Yes," Cornwell agreed. "you all do."

"I will be sending my application to Federation council in a few hours," Lorca said.

"And Tyler is going to get more counseling," Cornwell said, almost as a question.

"He will," Lorca said. "I will make sure of it." he looked down toward Merkin then back up while gently stroking it.

"It'll be a great loss to Starfleet," Cornwell said. "But he'll be happier."

Lorca gave a weathered smile back.

"That's what I had in mind, Kat," Lorca said. "That's what I had in mind."

And that applied to everyone after the war and Burnham? Burnham knew who she was again.

 **The End.**


End file.
